Embracing Destiny
by Michelle Clover
Summary: Seven months after the events in Kirkwall, Emily Hawke and an exiled Alistair Theirin are brought together by the witch Flemeth to fight the world's greatest threat. Epic AU tale featuring Hawke(F)/Alistair and Fenris/OC pairings with cameos by many major characters from both Origins & II. Lots of angst and rated M for a reason.-On Hiatus
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is an AU fiction based on the Dragon Age games by Bioware. Bioware owns all rights to the worlds and characters with the exception of any OC's (ie Anion and Nadia). Please feel free to leave comments/reviews/constructive criticism of my work as it is always appreciated.  
**

Emily Hawke awoke suddenly, shaken from the visions that haunted her dreams. It had been a little over six months since she and her friends fled from Kirkwall, but the memories of that fateful day still lingered fresh in her mind.

A loud raspy cough broke the silence. "Another nightmare?"

Emily surveyed her friend in the firelight. "Fenris, you should be resting. How are you ever supposed to recover if you don't?" she asked with concern.

The white-haired elf sighed loudly which ended in another fit of coughing. Emily quickly uncorked her water-skin and held onto it while Fenris took a drink. "Thank you." he managed.

"It's getting worse."

"I'll be fine, Hawke." he reassured her.

She replaced the cork and laid the skin down next to her. "What are you doing up anyway?"

"Fire went out." he stated simply.

Emily cursed herself for falling asleep. She promised the elf that she would take care of him, but their trip to get him back to civilization to find a healer was starting to take its toll on them both. Over the previous weeks, the sickness had worn Fenris down from a strong and capable warrior to a frail shell of the man he once was. It had gotten to the point where his legs couldn't hold his weight, so Emily fashioned a litter from a deer skin, several large branches and some rope they procured from an abandoned hut north of Ostwick. Emily wasn't weak by any stretch of the imagination, but due to lack of sleep from worry and skipping meals so Fenris would have more food she wasn't exactly at full strength. Pulling the elf up and down the mountains would have been difficult in the best of circumstances but it was becoming nearly impossible. The only thing that kept her going was her sheer determination to ensure that she wouldn't lose anyone else she cared about to the Void.

Her entire family was dead. Other than Fenris, everyone she ever loved or cared about was gone. Aveline was the first to leave her side, choosing to stay in Kirkwall. Emily heard that the older woman lost her position as guard captain after the battle with the templars, but was reinstated within a few weeks because the rest of the guard threatened to quit if she wasn't.

Isabela and Merrill were next . After a month up in the mountains, Emily and her companions decided to brave going into a small village for supplies. While they were there, the pirate got word that the ship she acquired from Castillon was seen docked in Ostwick. Even though Isabela denied it and promised to stay at Emily's side, the mage knew that her friend would never be happy until she got that ship back and returned to the open sea. Emily convinced Isabela to go and Merrill volunteered to travel with the raider. The reason the elf gave was that traveling with Isabela would give her a better chance to find relics of her people's history, but Emily suspected it had more to do with the fact that the Dalish girl and the pirate had gotten very "close" since they departed Kirkwall.

Shortly after that, when they had reached the foot of the mountains in the east, Varric decided to go to Markham alone to get in touch with some old business contacts. A few days later, Fenris snuck into the town at night only to learn that Varric had been captured by the Seekers and taken to Orlais. She wanted to go after her old friend but the elf talked her out of it, convincing her that the two of them would just make things worse for the dwarf and get themselves caught in the process.

Being the only two of their group left, Emily and Fenris traveled back into the deepest part of the mountains where they stayed for several more months, living off the land and seeking shelter in caves. Even though the climate in the Free Marches was fairly temperate throughout the year, the peaks of the Vinmark range were unforgiving in the winter season.

When Fenris first became ill, they both thought that it was nothing more than a simple cold. After a week, they began to realize that it was something far more serious. Emily tried her best to help him, but Creation magic was never her strong suit and she never learned anything about alchemy. The only thing she could think to do was to get him to somebody who could help him. That meant that they would have to travel back down to the lowlands. Emily knew it was risky, but it was a chance she had to take in order to save her friend's life.

She noticed that Fenris was shivering, so she wrapped her own blanket around his shoulders over his. Her hand brushed his wrist and his skin felt hot to the touch. "I am so sorry that I fell asleep and let the fire die, Fenris."

He coughed again and immediately spit a mouthful of blood at the cave's floor next to him. "That's the first time I've seen you sleep in days, Hawke." he managed. "You are only human, you cannot continue to push yourself like this or neither of us will make it."

She sighed. "You're right." she conceded. More raspy hacking from the elf caused him to expectorate more crimson. He was getting worse by the day. _I wish Anders was here, _she thought sadly.

Anders was the best healer she had ever met, even better than her father. He would have been able to set Fenris right from the beginning. She closed her eyes and could see his face. His warm amber eyes twinkled as he smiled lovingly at her. She missed him so much. They had been together for almost four years. Her entire world had revolved around him. Even when he began pushing her away after three years of living together, she didn't give up on him. In the end, it made little difference.

After the Chantry exploded, she spared his life and asked him to fight by her side to help the mages of Kirkwall. When the battle was over and Meredith was dead, Emily thought that she had saved all of her friends. They took a small boat and made it to the coast away from the Gallows. On the ship, she noticed that her love was bleeding, but he assured her it was minor and he would fix the damage once they were away from the city. She thought they were all safe. When they reached the bottom of Sundermount and Anders collapsed, she found out how wrong she had been. She recalled the conversation as if it were yesterday.

"Anders!" she called out when she turned around and saw him lying in the dirt. She ran to him and grabbed hold of his hand. he tried to sit up, but immediately fell back to the ground.

She could see how much pain he was in, but he smiled at her. "I'm sorry love, but I don't think I'm going to be able to go with you."

Tears began streaming down her face, the first tears she had shed since she was a small girl. "I thought you said that it wasn't that bad."

He lifted his hand and brushed the hair away from her face. "The cut itself isn't, but the blade that pierced me was coated with a very rare poison. Without an antidote potion, its effects are fatal. I knew that there wasn't time to find the cure and I knew that we had to get out of the city as quickly as possible. There was nothing you could have done for me and I didn't want to worry you needlessly love. Besides, it's no more than I deserve after the things I have done and what I have put you through."

Emily began to sob. "Don't say that, Anders. You don't deserve to die."

He placed his large palm on her cheek and caressed it with his thumb. "Thank you for always being there for me, Em." He whispered. "Thank you for loving me, for never giving up on me, but most of all...thank you for allowing me to know true happiness, if only for a short time. I love you."

With that his hand dropped to his chest. Emily threw herself on him. She grabbed his face and began shaking it to wake him up. "Anders, no! Please don't leave me. I love you." Fenris recognized that it was too late and pulled Emily from the ground. She fought him and tried to return to the mage's side.

He wrapped his arms around hers and squeezed her tight to his chest. "Hawke." he said in a low soothing voice. "Hawke." The second time he said her name she looked at him, her eyes filled with wild desperation. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, mal amica. He's gone." With those words, she fell to her knees and wept like a child. Every tear that she held back over her life, she let go of at that moment. All of the heartache, pain and loneliness she had bottled up inside was released. Fenris stayed right there with her, holding onto her as she worked through her sorrow, showing her tenderness and understanding that she never thought him capable of.

Emily pulled a silver amulet from under her shirt. She stared at it for a long moment. She remembered when she gave the Tevinter Chantry amulet to Anders. He asked her if she wanted him to be executed. When he said that he liked it, but not on the outside of his clothes, she smirked and told him if that was the case she really couldn't wait to see it on him. The memory of the look on his face when he heard those words made her smile.

She was brought out of her introspection by the sound of Fenris coughing. She offered her water-skin to him, but he refused. "You should try to get some more sleep, Fenris. Tomorrow's another long day."

Taking her advice, he laid his head down on the rolled up bedroll behind him and closed his eyes. "How long do you think it will be before we're out of the mountains?" he asked, his deep voice raspy and weak.

"I'm not sure, but I don't think it will take more than a day...two at the most." Emily's heart ached, seeing the elf that way. Over the years, they definitely had their differences but they also held a mutual respect for each other like few had ever known. That was threatened at one point before she and Anders started dating when she and Fenris slept together one night. She cared for him very deeply and he just got up and walked out. He avoided her for days afterward and when they finally saw each other again, he acted like nothing ever happened. A few weeks later, Anders confessed his feelings for her and they began a relationship. Emily and Fenris never spoke a word about what happened to each other or anyone else.

Sometimes, she found herself wanting to ask him why, especially now that they were alone, but she never did. She watched him pull the blankets closer around his neck and got a glimpse of the red cloth band around his wrist. He had worn it ever since that night they shared together, and she knew that it was a ribbon that he had untied from her hair just before they made love. She always wondered why he wore it, what that meant, but she was afraid to ask. Their relationship had developed into a friendship that she valued above all others and she didn't want to take the chance of messing that up.

Emily watched Fenris's labored breathing as he tried to go to sleep. After a while it evened and she knew that his body had finally given in to his need for rest. She sat there for a long while, staring into the fire, watching the flames consume the wood that fueled them. At some point, she had drifted off again and didn't wake until she felt someone shaking her arm and she opened her eyes to the sight of arrows being pointed at her.


	2. Chapter 2

Four elves whose faces were mostly covered by hoods surrounded Emily and Fenris. As sick as he was, the look on Fenris's face could have only been described as murderous. Emily knew that if he hadn't been too weak to hold a sword, the invaders would have already been cut down.

The elf who had his bow drawn back on the mage took a step closer to her. "What are you doing here, shemlen?"

Hawke held up her hands in front of her chest to show the intruders that she meant them no harm. "My friend and I took shelter in this cave for the night. He is very ill and I was taking him back to the lowlands for help."

Fenris shot Emily an icy glare. She knew it was because she told their captors that he was sick, but she also knew that even if they attacked he would have been too weak to help her fight. She hoped that by telling the strange elves of Fenris's malady, they might show mercy and let the two of them be on their way.

"What is your name, stranger?" the archer asked.

Emily was a little worried about revealing her name so close to Kirkwall, but she didn't see where she had a choice. "It's Hawke." she jerked her head toward her companion. "And this is Fenris."

As soon as she spoke her name, the elf lowered his bow and threw the hood of his cloak back. The rest of the hunters followed suit. Emily didn't recognize any of their faces, but she knew by their facial tattoos that they were Dalish. "We've been searching for you for the past two days." the leader told her, his face completely unreadable.

"Searching for us?" the mage asked with surprise. After she posed the question it dawned on her that they may have been looking for her to claim the two sizeable bounties that had been placed on her head, one by the Prince of Starkhaven and one by the Seekers. She knew that if that was the case, she would have to try to fight her way out. She squinted her eyes as she peered up at the man before her. "What for?"

His voice remained even as he spoke. "We were sent by our Keeper. Her instructions were to find you and bring you back to our camp."

Emily couldn't conceive of a reason that the Keeper of a Dalish tribe that was unknown to her would want to see her. She wondered if it was some sort of trap and she quickly began to examine her options. She heard Fenris coughing again and it made up her mind to follow the strange men. Her friend needed help and if finding a cure for his sickness meant that she would be captured, she was just going to have to take that chance.

She stood and walked over to the litter she had fashioned for Fenris. When she pulled it away from the wall and placed it on the floor next to the ailing warrior, the leader of the Dalish party held up his hand to inform her to stop. "If your friend cannot carry his own weight, then he must stay. Dragging him with that thing will only slow us down."

Emily shook her head. "No." she protested angrily. "I am not leaving him here to die."

"Then he must walk from this place." the Dalish man said with an air of finality.

"But-"

"It's okay, Hawke." Fenris interrupted. He rose to his knees and began breathing heavily which caused him to start hacking. Once his coughing subsided, he managed to get to his feet. He swayed a bit, but was able to maintain his balance. "I can make it on my own."

Emily knew better. She knew that it was taking every ounce of strength that her friend could muster to remain on his feet. She turned to the elven leader and waited for him to comment on Fenris's actions and words. Instead, the man simply pulled his hood back over his head, circled and walked out of the cave. As soon as Fenris began to lift his foot from the ground to move forward, his legs buckled and he started to fall. Emily ran to his side and caught him just before he hit the ground.

The white-haired warrior flashed a feeble smile. "I guess I might need a _little_ help." Emily pulled his left arm around her shoulders and grabbed onto his hand with hers before wrapping her right arm around his waist and pulling him back up to a standing position. Because of their differing heights, she found that she needed to bend her knees slightly in order to keep a proper grip on him. At first, she found it difficult and clumsy to maneuver with her body contorted in that manner, but after a few minor adjustments she managed to fall in step behind the other elves. The leader noticed Emily struggling to help Fenris, but said nothing. He simply exhaled loudly in exasperation and moved on.

By dusk, the mage's legs and arms were aching from the strain of carrying most of Fenris's weight and she felt as if her muscles might give out at any moment. She considered asking one of the men they were following how much farther they had to walk, but she was afraid they would insist that she leave Fenris behind again. Just when she thought that she couldn't manage another step, the aravels of a Dalish camp came into view. A few strides later and Emily's tired body finally gave out causing her and Fenris to collapse onto the ground. The hunter that was walking just ahead of them fell back and helped her to her feet before taking her friend's weight on his own shoulders.

When they arrived at the camp, they were immediately greeted by a young elf with a warm smile. "Andaran atish'an falon. You must be Hawke. We have been expecting you. I am Anion."

"Ma serannas, Anion."

The elf's smile broke into a bright grin. "You speak Dalish then?"

Emily nodded. "A little, my friend Merrill taught me."

The smile quickly faded from Anion's face. "Yes, I have heard of this Merrill you speak of."

Emily could see that the young elf wasn't happy with what he heard about her Dalish comrade and it seemed as if he wanted to speak further on the subject, when his attention was drawn to Fenris still being held up by the hunter.

"What have we here?" Anion asked looking Fenris over. He shook his head sadly. "Your friend, he is very ill. He needs healing medicine."

"Is there someone here who can help him then?" the mage asked expectantly.

The young Dalish nodded. "Of course, I am First to Keeper Ghilya and am quite skilled in healing magic."

Emily was so relieved to hear Anion's words that she had to blink away a tear that was forming in the corner of her eye. "So you can heal Fenris?"

"I will do my best, falon." he promised.

The elf that led them to the camp walked up and stood next to Anion. He crossed his arms and frowned. Anion glanced at him and cleared his throat. "Yes, well...while I am taking care of your friend, you should probably go see the Keeper."

Emily scowled. "Do _you_ know why the Keeper wants to see me, Anion?"

He shook his head. "I am sorry, Hawke. That is between you and the Keeper."

"Are you sure about this, mal amica?" the mage heard a low, weak voice from behind her. "It could be a trap."

She put a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder. "Don't worry Fenris. I'll be fine. You need to go with Anion so you can start feeling better."

"Do not fret" Anion spoke up. "I promise, I will take care of your friend and when you are finished speaking to Ghilya, you can come to my aravel and check on him.

Emily watched as the Dalish mage led Fenris and the hunter to his wagon. She turned to the leader of the hunting party. "Follow me." he stated simply as he passed by her and began to walk away. He led her to one of the landships near the edge of the clearing. Standing at its side was a middle-aged elf with dark blonde hair and large dark green eyes. The woman scrutinized the human standing before her for several minutes before finally speaking.

"Andaran atish'an, Hawke. I am Ghilya, Keeper of this tribe."

Emily gave the woman a small bow of her head. "Ma serranas, Keeper. I am very curious to find out why you were looking for me."

The older woman's eyes narrowed ominously. "Asha'belannar has a message for you."


	3. Chapter 3

"Come on, guys. Isn't there any way we can work this out?" The blonde man in filthy noble's clothing could barely see the three men that were surrounding him. The only thing he could really make out was the fact that they were very large and very angry.

"Silas is tired of waiting for you to give him the coin you owe him piss head." sneered the largest of the three. "He says you either give us the sovereigns or we take it out of your worthless, drunk hide."

The man on the drunk's left cracked his knuckles. "I say, we start with his legs, break them right below the kneecaps."

The vagrant staggered and barely caught what little balance he had, narrowly avoiding falling into the man directly in front of him. "Well that seems a little silly." he drawled. "How am I supposed to pay him back if I can't walk."

The oaf on his right spoke up. "You don't need legs to sit on a street corner and beg for spare change. In fact, it might make people feel sorry enough for you to actually give you a few coins."

"Don't you know who I am?" The drunk asked shaking his finger at the first man. He then poked him in the chest and narrowed his eyes. "I am Alistair Theirin, the rightful king of Ferelden."

The brute grabbed Alistair's finger and snapped it like a small twig. The prince cried out in pain as his knees hit the floor. "I don't give a shit if you're the Divine herself. You're going to give us the money or we're going to start ripping off body parts to sell to the bronto wranglers."

Alistair regarded the men with pleading eyes. "Please," he begged, "just give me a little more time. I sent a message to my uncle in Redcliffe asking him for the coin. I should be receiving it any day now."

"Time's up, _your highness_." the big man scoffed. He lifted Alistair from the ground by his broken digit, causing the prince to scream in agony. The ruffian finally loosened his grip only to punch Alistair in the gut, causing the former templar to bend over and fall to the floor once again. The last thing that Alistair remembered before blacking out was the image of a very large boot being planted on the side of his head.

He woke up sometime later in a dark, musty smelling room lit by a single candle on a nearby table. He tried to stand, only to discover that he was tied to a chair. He struggled against his bonds and tried to shout around the piece of cloth that had been stuffed in his mouth, but it was no use. He was trapped. Every muscle in his body ached and his head was pounding. He wondered when his captors would return and finish the job. Maybe it was their intention to leave him like that until someone came along and found him in that state or until he died of starvation. All he knew for sure was that he needed a stiff drink.

That thought gave him pause and not for the first time. What had he become? How could he have allowed his life to become such a drunken blur? Ever since the day the love of his life betrayed him and gave his throne to that bitch Anora, ever since the day that she made the decision not only to allow Loghain to live but to make him a Grey Warden, Alistair had lived inside a bottle. Facing the heartbreak and the lonely nights without some way to dull the pain was something he hadn't been able to do.

For years, his "Uncle" Teagan had bailed him out and given him money whenever he needed it, but over the past several months, Alistair lost all contact with the nobleman. When that happened, the prince turned to money lenders in order to keep the spirits flowing. He sent message after message to both Teagan and the arl's brother, Eamon asking them for help, but he never received an answer.

His thoughts were interrupted by a scratching sound near his left foot, but it was too dark to see what made the noise. He looked over by the table that held the candle and thought he saw something scurry through the light it shone onto the stone floor below. More scratching. He shivered when he felt something touch the side of his boot and closed his eyes.

_Rats _he thought with disgust. _Dear Maker_, _I hate rats. _He broke out into a cold sweat and began to pray._ Sweet Andraste's mercy, please don't let me die from being eaten alive by giant rodents. I swear by all that is righteous and holy, if you get me out of this I will never take another drink as long as I live. Just please, please get me out of this._

As if in answer to his prayer, the door burst open causing the vermin in the room to scamper back to their hiding places. A familiar looking dwarf entered and approached him. He was completely bald and his entire head was covered in dark tattoos. Even with his short stature, he commanded fear from almost everyone he met.

"Well, well, well" he began with a cruel smirk as he removed the rag from his captive's mouth. "It seems your Maker favors you today, your highness." Alistair remained silent as the small man circled around him. "I was content to let you rot down here, but I guess somebody thought that you were worth the gold you owed me. Ancestors only know why. "

The prince breathed a sigh of relief. Teagan had finally come through for him. "So my uncle sent the money I promised you after all."

The dwarf shook his head. "No. Some grey-haired old hag paid your debt plus a little extra for the trouble. The only thing she asked in return was for me to make sure that you made it onto a ship named _The Siren's Call _that will be leaving from a small port outside the city."

Alistair couldn't imagine who the woman could have been. He did, however, recognize the name of the ship that Silas mentioned, although he couldn't remember where he knew it from. "So does this mean you're letting me go?" he asked apprehensively.

"Not quite." the dwarf replied. "You see, I promised the old lady that I would get you on that ship." A wicked grin split his scarred face. "But I didn't promise what condition you'd be in when you got there." And with that, a large fist meeting the bridge of his nose right between his eyes was the last thing Alistair Theirin saw of the city of Kirkwall.


	4. Chapter 4

"Asha'belannar?" Emily asked with surprise. "You mean Flemeth? But what could Flemeth possibly want with me?"

The Keeper crossed her arms. "Asha' belannar does not explain herself to me or anyone else, human."

The last time the mage had seen or even heard anything about Flemeth was over seven years ago. What could the witch possibly want with her? And why now? It wasn't as if she could travel freely throughout Thedas anymore. She was a wanted apostate, a liability to anyone who associated with her.

"Don't tell me she wants me to deliver another amulet." Emily jested. Ghilya scowled at her, making it clear that she was not amused. The young mage knew that the Dalish took Flemeth very seriously, but she couldn't help herself. The whole ordeal was making her nervous and when she was nervous, Emily had the tendency to rely on humor to ease the tension. She shifted her weight uncomfortably as the Dalish woman continued to shoot daggers with her eyes. Emily straightened her shoulders to regain her composure. "Okay then...no amulets...got it." She bit her bottom lip apprehensively. She was almost afraid to ask the next question and was even more afraid that when she heard the answer she wouldn't understand it anyway. "So what is this message you are to give me?"

"Asha' belannar says that it is time for you to leap." The older woman said flatly. "I will assume that you understand the meaning of this."

The Keeper's words sounded familiar, but Emily couldn't quite grasp their meaning or what context surrounded them. She closed her eyes and traced her memory back to that day on Sundermount. She remembered Flemeth appearing before her and she recalled something about a daughter...Morrigan was the name the witch spoke. But what did that have to do with... Then the words came to Emily as clear as the day the ancient woman spoke them to her.

_We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment, and when it comes...do not hesitate to leap._

The young mage shook her head. She still didn't understand what Flemeth was trying to tell her, but she felt a cold chill run up her spine that made her shiver. The Keeper cleared her throat, bringing Emily back to the present.

"Did she say anything else?" the mage inquired hoping that the witch might have said something to help her understand the cryptic message.

"Yes." replied the older woman. "But nothing for you directly. She requested that my people take you to a ship docked to the south."

"A ship?" Emily wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to play pawn in Flemeth's game, especially with so little information to go on. "Where am I supposed to go in this ship?"

"I do not know where it is bound." The Keeper answered stoically. "I only know that I am to make sure that you board it. I will escort you along with four of my best hunters to ensure that my part in this task is completed"

The young mage sighed. It was obvious that the Dalish woman wasn't going to answer anymore of her questions. "Okay then," she conceded. "We will head for the ship as soon as Fenris is feeling better."

The older woman shook her head. "You leave tomorrow at dawn. Your companion will simply have to remain with my clan until he is well."

"No." Emily refused. "I am not leaving Fenris behind and there is nothing that you can say or do to sway that decision."

Ghilya studied the younger woman for several minutes before glaring at her with determination. "If you do not leave voluntarily at tomorrow's sunrise, Hawke, I am afraid that my hunters will have to take you to your destination by force. I would prefer that you follow my instructions, but if you refuse I will do what must be done. Besides, staying here only puts both this tribe and your friend at greater risk."

Emily didn't see where the Keeper was leaving her any choice in the matter. She knew that she could probably fight off the hunters and resist being taken by force, but that would put Fenris in even more danger. It was a chance she wasn't willing to take.

"Very well, Ghilya." the younger mage conceded. "I will leave in the morning, but I want your guarantee that Fenris will be safe in your people's care."

"Of course, falon." she said with a bow of her head. "My First will ensure that he is healed and he will remain under this clan's protection until he is fully recovered."

Even with the Keeper's assurance, Emily still didn't relish the idea of leaving her companion behind. Not only that, but when Fenris found out that she left without him, he would be absolutely livid. She wasn't even sure that he would ever forgive her for doing such a thing. On the other hand, she didn't see where she had any other options. She would just have to hope that Fenris would understand. She wondered if he was doing any better and if Anion had been able to help him at all. She addressed the Keeper. "Now, if you have no more news for me, I would like to check on my friend."

Ghilya gestured toward the direction of her First's aravel. "Ma nuvenin, Hawke."

Emily gave the older woman a curt nod of her head and headed off to find Fenris. When she got to Anion's wagon, she saw her friend next to the fire sleeping peacefully for first time in weeks. His breathing was completely normal and he wasn't sweating or shaking. She spotted the healer standing in the shadow of a nearby tree, arms crossed and leaning against its trunk.

She noticed, and not for the first time that he was much taller than any of the elven men Emily had met. In fact, he was slightly taller than she was. She also observed that, just like Merrill had been when they met, he appeared to be no more than seventeen or eighteen years old, which made the mage wonder what his true age was. His dark blonde hair was pulled together in a long braid that draped across his left shoulder. He was running the length of the braid through his right fist and studying Emily with his haunting sky blue eyes. His full lips curved into a crooked smirk when he realized that she had noticed him and Emily couldn't help but be reminded of Anders. She mused that Anion looked a great deal like her departed lover must have in his younger days. The smile that the mage was returning to the young elf took on a sad, haunted quality as she thought about the man she lost.

"How is he?" she queried in a whisper when Anion was standing at her side.

"He is better, falon." the Dalish mage replied in a low voice. "I expect him to make a full recovery, but it will take some time. He has a lot of fluid in his chest, but I was able to remove the infection that caused it. It's a good thing the hunters found you when they did, I don't think he would have made it otherwise."

Emily closed her eyes to gain her composure. When Anion was relating Fenris's condition, she imagined that his words were almost exactly the ones Anders would have used to describe it.

She felt a warm hand on her shoulder. "He'll be fine, Hawke." she heard him say. A thousand memories flooded her brain and she wasn't sure how much more she could take. She drew a deep breath and her body shuddered as she inhaled.

"Thank you, Anion." she managed in a barely audible voice. She took another deep breath before speaking again. "I have met several Dalish in the past few years, but you seem...different than the others."

"You picked up on that did you?" He chuckled easily. "Yes, well that's probably because I spent over half of my life in the city."

"You're from Kirkwall then?" Emily asked with genuine curiosity.

"No," he replied. "Denerim. I grew up in the alienage there."

Now he really piqued her curiosity. "So how did you end up with a Dalish clan in the Free Marches?"

"That's a long story better left for another time." he responded. "I understand that you have a long journey ahead of you tomorrow and you should probably try to get some rest. Maybe I will relate my tale on our next meeting."

Emily wondered what he was trying to hide, but she decided not to push the issue. Instead she chose to ask a more pertinent question. "Speaking of which," she began with a small amount of trepidation. "do you think that it would be okay if I slept out here near Fenris."

"I don't see why not." he shrugged. "But I'm not sure how much rest you will be getting the way he talks in his sleep."

The mage was confused by Anion's words. "I've never known him to do that."

The elf furrowed his brow. "Well, maybe it was caused by the fever breaking. Anyway, I should let you get some sleep."

As he turned to walk away, Emily's curiosity got the better of her. "By the way...what did he talk about?"

Anion looked back over his shoulder and regarded her with a grin. "Well mainly, it was about you."


	5. Chapter 5

A painful, coughing fit woke Fenris from the best sleep he had in weeks. He sat upright and quickly spit out the gunk that had been expelled from his lungs, grateful for the fact that it wasn't tinged red for once. As he scanned the area around him looking for Hawke, he became aware of the fact that other than a sore throat and some heaviness in his chest he was actually feeling much better.

"She left a couple of hours ago." he heard a voice coming from behind say.

Fenris looked at the ground next to him, his eyes darting back and forth as he tried to make sense of the words that had just been spoken. Hawke was gone? He felt a surge of panic wash over him. Surely she was planning to come back at some point. She probably just went back to the cave that the Dalish hunters found them in to retrieve the gear they left behind.

He rotated his body to face the Dalish man who had spoken to him. It was the healer that had taken care of him the night before. Fenris couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about the man that he just didn't like.

His brow creased in perturbed annoyance. "When will she be back?" he asked . He hoped it would be soon because he didn't like the thought of her wandering around up in the mountains alone.

The younger elf who was leaning against the side of his aravel shook his blonde head. "She's not coming back, falon. She went to board a ship to the south."

Anxiety and rage hit Fenris like a tidal wave. How could she just leave him after all they had been through together? No matter what happened, he always stood by her. Why would she abandon him now? Did he really mean so little to her? No, there had to be more to it than that. He knew Hawke and he knew that she wouldn't just desert him like that, especially not without an explanation or saying goodbye. He jumped to his feet, the lyrium lines etched in his skin glowing silver blue, and grabbed Anion by the throat. Fenris lifted him high into the air.

"What did you do with her?" he seethed through gritted teeth. "If anyone has harmed one hair on her head, I will slaughter each and every one of you dirt grubbers down to the last child."

The Dalish man's eyes grew wide. He clawed at Fenris's hand trying his best to free himself from the warrior's grip. Struggling for breath and feeling faint, he began to panic. "If you let me down," he managed in a strangled voice, "I'll tell you what happened."

Fenris sneered at the man and threw him to the ground. He rushed over to the younger elf and took a knee, grabbing a handful of hair as he went. "Start talking." the irate elf hissed. "And if I don't like what I hear, you are a dead man."

"The hunters and the Keeper came for her just before dawn." he began quickly. "She packed her things and followed them."

A look of confusion crossed Fenris's face. He let go of the other man's hair and stood at his full height. "She went voluntarily?" Anion nodded his head but remained silent. "Why didn't she wake me? Why did she go without me?"

The younger elf could see the pain in the warrior's dark green eyes and he wanted to make sure that the man knew that Hawke had no choice in the matter. "Look," he explained, "she wanted to wait until you were well enough to travel, but the Keeper insisted that she go at first light. Ghilya was instructed by Asha' belannar to make sure that Hawke was on that ship before tomorrow morning."

"Fasta vass." Fenris mumbled under his breath as he began pacing. There was no way in Thedas he was going to allow Hawke to board that ship without him, especially not if the witch Flemeth was involved. The elf had met a lot of dangerous people in his life, but he knew that none were as dangerous as Flemeth.

He faced the healer once more. "You said they left a few hours ago?" he asked.

"Yes, about two and a half hours ago now. It was right after daybreak."

Fenris turned and began gathering his things. He strapped his sword to his back and donned the heavy leather boots Hawke had purchased for him just before they left Kirkwall. As he laced them, he recalled the day she emerged from the shop with them in her hands, a sly smile on her face. He remembered it so vividly because it was the first time she had smiled in weeks and it was also the first time anyone had ever bought anything for him. She told him that after seven years, it was time that he had a decent pair of boots and she was sick of seeing him with bare feet. He protested her generosity at first, but gave in when her bright smile faded into a wounded frown. He was surprised by the fact that she got his size right on the first try and he couldn't stop himself from smiling when her eyes lit up upon hearing that they fit.

Fenris made up his mind then and there. Even if he was on death's doorstep, there was no way he was letting Hawke leave without him. She was the one thing the elf couldn't live without. She was his best friend and there was no one in the world he respected or cared about more.

He thumbed the red piece of cloth that was tied around his wrist. The memory of pulling it loose and watching her long dark hair tumble down to her bare shoulders made his breath quicken. He let himself become lost in the memory of that night.

After he finally got his revenge on Hadriana, he had let his anger get the best of him and stuck his foot in his mouth once again. Hawke tried to calm him down and comfort him in the cave afterward and he yelled at her for her trouble. He showed up at her house later that evening to apologize and ended up yelling at her again before he stormed out of her door. He avoided her for two days by shutting himself up in his room and ignoring her knocks and pleas for him to come out. Then on the evening of the third day, he showed up at her house again and waited for her to return.

He had been sitting on the small white bench in the entryway when she walked through the door. Even though it had been his choice to stay away and it had only been a couple of days, he had missed her terribly. He had felt completely lost without her and the sight of her standing before him was an immediate relief to his heart. She looked completely exhausted both physically and emotionally.

"Look, Fenris," she sighed, "if you came here to fight...It has been a long day and I'm just not up for arguing with you tonight."

"I didn't come here to fight with you, Hawke." He stood and marched toward her. "I have been thinking of you. In fact I have been able to think of little else. Command me to go and I shall." He remained right in front of her, awaiting her answer. He wouldn't have blamed her if she would have thrown him out, but she just stood there, her glistening emerald eyes staring into the very depths of his soul. After what seemed like a lifetime, she lifted her right hand and Fenris expected her to slap him across the face. It was no more than he deserved for the way he had treated her. Instead, she gently placed her palm on his cheek.

"I don't want you to go anywhere, Fenris." she whispered breathlessly. Her words caused him to lose what little self control he had been straining to hold onto. He put his hands to the sides of her face and pulled her mouth to his. He kissed her passionately and pushed her against the wall. As he continued to taste her lips, he realized that he wanted more, needed more. He couldn't get close enough. He had to feel her, to know her most intimate places. His mind was completely consumed with his desire for her. He lifted her from the floor and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her upstairs to her bedroom, never letting his lips leave hers.

When they reached the foot of her bed he allowed her to slide down his body until she found her feet on the rug below. He began tearing at her armor, discarding it to the floor next to them. Just as he had finished removing her breast band, she pulled back.

Fenris's breath was coming in short bursts. "Is there something wrong?" he asked wanting nothing more at that very moment than to taste her soft lips again.

She searched his eyes and he could see worry reflecting in hers. Her words were barely a whisper. "It's just that...I've never done this before. I...I thought I should tell you before we go any further. I wasn't sure how you would feel about being with a virgin or if that would make any difference."

In a split second, her words transformed his hunger for her into something else entirely, something completely unknown to him. He gently touched her cheek and stared into her eyes. There was something behind the emerald orbs that he hadn't noticed before. He swallowed hard and moved his hand to her crown before pulling one end of the cloth that confined her hair. The sight of her dark brown locks spilling down around her face and onto her shoulders caused the beating of his heart to hasten and gave him an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach.

All of his previous sexual experiences had been forced and ugly, causing him to feel ashamed of any pleasure he got from them. He had no idea how to be tender, but he wanted to be tender with Hawke. Fenris made love for the first time that night, feeling emotions that he never thought himself capable of. After everything he had suffered in his life, he never imagined that anything could be so perfect. Holding her, making love to her felt so natural and right, like it was where he was always meant to be.

When it was over and she laid her head on his chest to go to sleep, he heard her softly whisper, "I love you." Everything inside him wanted to repeat those words back to her, but he just couldn't do it. He lay there for a long while stroking her hair before he finally drifted off. When he did, he had dreams of strange but familiar people and places. He knew that it was his long forgotten past. The past that Danarius robbed him of. Sometime in the night, he awoke in a cold sweat. He remembered dreaming about who he was but try as he might he couldn't recall any details about the dream. He looked down at the woman sleeping in his arms, and a feeling of panic began to surface within him, the likes of which he had never known. There was too much about both his past and his future that was uncertain. The memories he couldn't quite hold onto, Hawke's words, it was all more than his tortured soul could bear. He had to get out of there, away from Hawke so he could think.

He slipped from her embrace as gently and as quietly as he could and quickly got dressed. He hoped to get away before she woke. Just before he turned to leave, he spotted the small red strip of cloth that she always used to tie back her hair. On an impulse, he grabbed it and tied it around his wrist. Unfortunately, those few moments were enough for Hawke to wake up. He told her that it was too soon and that it was a mistake. He saw the hurt in her green eyes and could tell that she was making a great effort to hold back her tears. He should have held her and told her that he was sorry. He should have stayed. A few days later, he utterly regretted walking out on her, but his pride wouldn't let him tell her that. Instead, he simply ignored her for a few weeks and then pretended it never happened. When she began seeing Anders, Fenris knew it was too late. He lost the best thing that ever happened to him to his own stupidity.

He may have lost her heart, but he would not allow her to walk out of his life completely. He was determined to find her and he didn't care whether she liked it or not.

"Come on." he told the young elven mage. "We have a lot of ground to cover quickly if we are to catch up to Hawke."


	6. Chapter 6

As she made her way through the Planasene Forest, Emily couldn't keep her mind off of the friend she left behind. The weight of guilt was bearing down heavily on her shoulders, but she wasn't sure what else she could have done. She knew that Fenris still wasn't fully recovered; Anion said that it was going to take weeks. She also knew that if she woke him, he would have insisted on going no matter how he felt. She didn't leave him a note because, although he was improving with lessons from her, reading remained difficult for Fenris. So Emily did the only thing she knew to do, she told Anion to let Fenris know where she went and that she was very sorry she had to leave without him but it was for his own good. She also told the healer to let her friend know that she hoped they would see each other soon and that she would miss him more than he could ever realize. She just hoped it would be enough. At that very moment, however, it didn't feel like enough. It felt wrong.

Emily kept looking over her shoulder, expecting to see Fenris running up from behind, but the path remained empty. She even found herself slowing her pace to give him the chance to catch up, but every time she did, one of the hunters would prod her to move faster. How was she going to make it on her own? She had lost the two most important people in her life in a matter of a few months. She cared about all of her friends of course, but Anders and Fenris were always the ones she was closest to, the ones she could never get by without. Now they were both gone and she was all alone facing an apparently important yet unknown task given to her by an ancient witch.

While she was lost in thought, Emily had instinctively slowed her gait to a near snail's pace. The hunter directly in front of her noticed and told her to hurry up so she picked up her pace a bit, but still kept it slower than normal. She watched her black leather boots as they trod along the fallen leaves on the forest floor. The crisp blanket of brown beneath her feet reminded her of her last home in Ferelden.

After years of moving from place to place, her father finally decided to settle down in a small cottage just outside the village of Lothering. When he died; Emily, who was only seventeen at the time, was put in charge of taking care of the rest of her family. Her mother sold herbs and vegetables to the townspeople when they were in season to help bring in coin. Bethany, who excelled in Creation magic and alchemy, made potions to sell and Carver would make deliveries for old man Barlin whenever they were available. Emily brought in most of the household income however, by hunting and selling the pelts and meat from animals during the day and waiting tables at Dane's Inn, the local tavern, at night. It was difficult at times, but they managed...until the Blight came. Luckily, the Hawke family lived far enough outside the village to make it out alive, but Emily lost her sister to an ogre on the road. She and Bethany had done nearly everything together growing up and most of the time they were the only friends that each other had. Eight years later, Emily still had a hard time thinking about it.

She looked up and noticed that Ghilya had fallen back to her position. "Is something wrong, Hawke?"

Emily chose to keep her focus on the path ahead. "No" she lied.

"He will be fine, falon." the older woman observed. "Your friend, he is a strong warrior. He will pull through. And do not worry so much about leaving him behind. I am certain that he will see the wisdom of your actions and he will not hold them against you."

Emily snorted. "You don't know Fenris." she muttered quietly.

"What was that?" the older woman asked.

The young mage shook her head. "Nothing, never mind."

"So this elf?" the Keeper prodded. "He is your mate?"

Thoughts of Anders flooded Emily's mind followed by the painful memory of how Fenris walked out on her after she lost her virginity to him and subsequently laid her heart bare. "No." she whispered. "He's not my mate. He is a friend. My best friend as a matter of fact." Even though he hurt her very badly and she could never understand why he acted the way he had, she still considered him her closest companion.

Ghilya considered the younger woman's words for a long moment. "That is a shame. I have always found that the greatest love comes from the greatest friendships."

"It's...complicated." Emily confessed before deciding to change the subject. "So where exactly is this ship docked anyway?"

"It is located in the small fishing village of Greenvale." the Dalish woman replied.

The younger mage wrinkled her brow in thought. "Greenvale? I've never heard of it."

"Most people who live outside of the forest do not know of it" Ghilya told her. "It is a place of little significance inhabited by only a few families. Raiders from the north are normally the only other humans who find interest in it due to its proximity to the City of Kirkwall and the fact that its port is in deep enough waters to moor a mid-sized ship."

Emily was a little surprised that she had never heard the name from Isabela. Then again, it was probably some kind of pirate trade secret or some such nonsense. "So how far are we from this Greenvale?"

"We are nearly halfway now." the older woman replied.

That really wasn't want Emily wanted to hear. They had been walking for hours and it was well past midday. She made up her mind that she didn't want to be trekking through the forest for the entire night, so she picked up her pace to her normal stride.

It was near midnight when they finally reached the small hamlet of Greenvale. The village was situated on the shore, but surrounded by thick trees. Just over a dozen small cottages and buildings were all that made up the small haven. Torches lit up the long pier beyond the village, their glow revealing several fishing vessels in the water on either side and a large brig at the end of the quay. The town itself was dark with the exception of a two-story building that stood in the middle. Music and raucous laughter drifted from its confines revealing to anyone who came near the fact that it was the village tavern.

Emily followed her Dalish traveling companions to the door of the inn. Ghilya's face was unreadable as she placed her hand on the doorknob and addressed the younger mage. "I believe that you shall find the ship's captain and crew inside."

Emily nodded and the Keeper turned the handle causing the door to crack open. After spending so much of the day within the serenity of the quiet forest, the light and noise coming from inside was an assault to Emily's senses. As she walked into the building, however, the whole place went eerily silent.

"I should have know it was going to be you." she heard a familiar voice say from a table near the bar.

Emily's face broke into a broad grin when she spotted the woman who spoke those words. "Isabela!" she cried happily. In fact, she was so elated to see a friendly face that Emily did something completely out of the ordinary; she gave the pirate a warm hug.

"Okay, okay." the woman chuckled. "You know better than that Hawke. Unless it's going to lead to the bedroom, I don't do physical affection." she flashed a sly smirk. "Or is this your way of coming onto me?"

The mage rolled her eyes and stepped away from her friend. "It's good to see you again Izzy." she said "but how did you get mixed up in this?"

"That's a funny story," Isabela replied "but I think that we should save it until after we get underway. I was expecting to leave here hours ago."

"Sorry about that." Emily apologized, her face tinged pink with embarrassment. "I was dragging my feet a bit I guess."

Isabela waved away the mage's concern. "No harm done. My men can sail a ship drunk or sober. Which is a damn good thing because besotted is a normal condition for most of them." With that, the pirate put two fingers in her mouth and let out a loud whistle to get the attention of all in the room. "Okay you lot." she announced. "Unless you want to be left in this hole-in-the-wall dump, you have exactly fifteen minutes to be aboard the ship and ready for duty."

The sound of chairs scraping wood and mugs and bottles being slammed on tabletops filled the air. Dozens of seedy looking men and women began to make their way out the door and into the once quiet night. Once all the crew was gone, Isabela turned to Emily once again. "So what do you say my friend? One more drink before we don our sea legs?"

"As long as your buying." Emily replied.

"Why should _I_ pay for _your _drinks?" the pirate scowled.

"Tome of Koslun." the mage retorted in a sing-song voice.

"Never gonna let me live that down are you?" Isabela asked with exasperation.

"Nope." Emily answered with a mischievous crooked grin.

When they were finished with their drinks and strolled back out into the night air, the two women were greeted by the sight of the Dalish Keeper and her escorts. Emily was a bit surprised that they hadn't already left the village. "I would have thought that you would have been on your way back to your camp by now, Keeper."

Ghilya shook her head. "No, falon. It is my duty to see that you board the ship and I cannot leave until you do."

Emily was a bit put off by the fact that the older woman didn't trust her to find her way onto the brig alone, but she didn't think that it was worth arguing the point. The mage and the raider walked quietly side by side down the pier with the elves following closely at their heels. Once they reached the gangplank Emily spun around to say goodbye to the Dalish, when she spied something silver glowing in the moonlight and headed quickly toward her.

As it came nearer, she recognized the form as her best friend.. Isabela snickered. "I was just wondering where your shadow was."

The mage shot the snarky woman an icy glare before turning her attention back to Fenris. When he finally reached the end of the dock, he fell to his knees in front of Emily, panting from the exertion of running.

Emily knelt down beside him. "Fenris! What in the bloody hell are you doing here?"

He answered between gasps. "You...didn't...think...that I would let you...leave without me...did you?"

"But you're not well." she admonished. "You need time to recover."

The warrior took several shallow breaths and Emily could tell that it was causing him no small amount of pain to do so. He placed his hand on her shoulder and stared into her bright green eyes. "I can recover just as easily on a ship as I can on dry land, mal amica."

"But you need to be near a healer, Fenris." she protested.

"Anion will accompany you." Ghilya spoke up to everyone's surprise, including the healer's.

"What?" the young mage asked incredulously. "But Keeper, how am I to train if I leave?"

The older elf approached her First and placed her hands on his shoulders. "You are part of this tale Da'len."

"What do you mean Keeper?" Anion asked with confusion. "I don't understand."

"Years ago, when you and your mother came to our clan, we told her that we would shelter you both for a night but she would have to move on the following day." she explained. "That evening, I received a visit from Asha' belannar. She advised me to accept you and your mother as part of our clan and to raise you up as my First in order to teach you how to use your gift. She also told me that one day you would return to the humans to live among them again and I would know when that time had come."

"So you are just banishing me from the clan now?" the healer asked with a pained expression.

Ghilya ran the braid on his shoulder through her hand. "Da'len, since your mother's passing, you have become like my own child, but you are meant for greater things. If the Creators will it we shall see one another again and you will always be welcome among our clan as falon, but you must find your own path and home away from our people."

"I...I don't know what to say." mumbled the bewildered young elf, staring at the ground next to his left foot. He finally turned his blue eyes to meet the older elf's gaze. "Ma nuvenin, Keeper. I will not argue the point. I cannot say I fully understand, but I will do as you tell me."

The older mage touched his cheek for only a moment before saying her goodbye. "Dareth shiral, Da'len."

"Dareth shiral, Keeper." Anion repeated as he watched the woman who had raised him for the past eight years turn her back and walk away, taking the life he had known with her. He felt a hand on his back and turned his face to see Emily standing next to him.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked with genuine concern.

He nodded slowly, swallowing back a lump that had formed in his throat. "I will be fine, falon...I mean Hawke. I suppose that I should become accustomed to speaking like a human again."

Emily moved her hand up to put her arm around his broad shoulders. "You don't have to give up who you are just because you won't be living among the Dalish any longer, Anion. No matter what happens, your life among the tribe will always be part of you because it has shaped the man you have become. All this means is that a new chapter of your life has begun, but it is all part of the same story."

He smiled at her words."Thank you, Hawke. You have given me much to think on."

Isabela sighed loudly from the foot of the gangplank. "As touching as this little scene is, I would like to get out of here so we can clear the waters near Kirkwall before dawn. The guards and templars both know this ship as mine and that's trouble we don't really want."

"Got it." Emily acknowledged. She addressed the two elven men at her sides. "Then are we ready to shove off gentlemen?"

Both nodded and Emily noticed Fenris shooting a hostile glare in the direction of their newest companion. "Play nice, Fenris." she scolded quietly into his ear. "Remember, he's the reason you're still alive."

The silver-haired warrior scoffed. "Mages." he mumbled unhappily under his breath.

Emily had no idea where they were going or even why. As she made her way up the ramp and onto the ship she wondered why she was chosen for this seemingly important task. Why her and not someone else? It didn't really matter she concluded, fate had intervened once again. It made her finally realize that her life had never really been in her own hands and it seemed that it never would be.


	7. Chapter 7

Fenris laid in one of the hammocks stretched along the wall in the lower deck. He stretched his legs and flexed his feet to try to work some of the soreness that had developed in his muscles from the day's travels. Normally he could walk for days on end without any problem, but because of his illness, his body had become a bit out of shape and weak. His lungs still burned from the exertion of running to catch up to Hawke, but it was worth it. He wasn't sure what he would have done if the ship would have been gone when he got there. A life without Hawke was not something he wanted to think about.

It still amazed him, how he had spent so many years alone when he was running from his former master. He didn't need anyone except the occasional hireling, and then it was just to help him fight when he knew the number of hunters after him was too many for him to take on his own. Companionship was something Fenris never wanted. He always thought that it was best to be on his own. And love...love was something he never even considered. It was beyond his scope of imagination. Then he met Hawke and she changed all that, a mage of all things.

He would have thought that after all of these years his feelings for the dark-haired beauty with the emerald eyes would have subsided if not gone away completely, but they hadn't. In fact, they were stronger than they had ever been. Spending so much time alone with her in the mountains, having her take care of him when he was sick and then to have her almost walk out of his life...all of it served to remind him how much he cared for her...how much he loved her.

He cursed himself for his stupid pride. Why didn't he just tell her how he felt? What was he afraid of? The answers were simple. He was afraid that she would reject him and how could he blame her after what he did to her? He was sure that she had many chances to be with a man before, but she chose him to be her first. She trusted him with what most women held most sacred, and he turned his back on her, telling her it was a mistake. How could she ever forgive him for that? How could she ever take the chance on opening her heart like that to him again? No, he would just have to love her in secret and hope that someday she would allow herself to feel the same way about him again.

His attention was drawn to the hammock above him which was occupied by the healer that he had been traveling with all day. At first, Fenris found the younger elf minutely irritating and he wasn't sure why, but as the day wore on he realized what it was about the elf he didn't like. Anion reminded him of Anders; not just by his physical appearance, but also his air of superiority and smugness. Fenris also didn't like the way the healer kept mooning over Hawke. The last thing the warrior wanted was to have to compete with another Anders. The boy's only saving grace was the fact that he was much too young for Hawke and he looked even younger than his actual age.

Fenris closed his eyes, ignoring the man sleeping overhead and returned his thoughts to Hawke. He had to wonder what all of this was about. What plan could the witch have for his friend? The whole thing was all too secretive for Fenris's tastes, but he had to trust Hawke's instincts. She never did anything just because someone told her to. Just like she never did anything without a good reason. All he could do was stay with her and be there when she needed him. No matter what else happened, Fenris would always protect Hawke with his very life.

* * *

Emily stood at the stern of the brig and watched the light from the torches on Greenvale's pier disappear into the darkness. She thought about all the things she left behind in the Free Marches and all of the people she had lost along the way. First there was Bethany and then her brother Carver in the Deep Roads after he was infected with the taint. She had to put the knife to him herself. They had never exactly gotten along, but she still loved him and never wished him any harm. Then there was her mother. The mad blood mage who killed her paid for the deed with his life, but that didn't help ease the pain. Next came Sebastian. The Prince of Starkhaven hadn't died, but he turned his back on her after she spared Anders' life. _Anders_ she thought sadly. His was the most difficult loss of all. She loved him more than she ever thought it was possible to love anyone. She thought about the way she had to leave his body behind without even a proper burial or pyre. She would carry the guilt of that for the rest of her life.

"I'm so sorry my love." she whispered into the wind. She only hoped that wherever he was, he could forgive her.

"Talking to yourself now, Hawke?" she heard her pirate friend say. She turned and saw Isabela leaning back against the main boom, her arms draped across the wood. The wench gave Emily one of her famous saucy smirks. "You know if you _need _company, I'm always ready willing and able."

Emily chuckled and shook her head. "I appreciate the generous offer Isabela, but the answer is still no."

"I'm still hoping that you'll be frustrated enough to go for it one of these days. How long have you been in dry dock now, anyway? Five, six months? Or did you and Fenris...?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Isabela." the mage chided. "There's nothing going on between me and Fenris."

The pirate scrutinized her friend to gauge the truthfulness of her words. "Hmph. Well I don't know why not. He's quite good-looking and those muscles...and the way he looks at you...his feelings for you are written all over his face."

Emily's shoulders slumped. She did care for Fenris and in her heart she knew that it was more than that, but he had hurt her very badly. "Yeah." she scoffed. "Like that worked out so well the last time."

Isabela shrugged. "You never know, Hawke. Fenris has changed a lot since then."

"Not enough to apologize for it." the mage retorted bitterly. "And not enough to tell me how he feels."

Isabela chewed at her bottom lip in thought. "Well, what about the new guy?"

"What about him?" Emily asked.

"Let's just say he's...interested. He's quite handsome, tall for an elf, blonde, in fact he looks an awful lot like-"

The mage shook her head. "Don't remind me. Believe me, I've noticed. But it doesn't matter what he looks like, he's not Anders and he could never take Anders' place in my heart...no one could. Besides, he's way too young for me."

Isabela chortled. "Oh, Hawke. You talk like you're an old lady. You're only twenty-eight and he's got to be at least twenty. Eight years is not so big of an age difference. In fact, wasn't Anders almost ten years older than you?"

"Yes, but that's different." Emily protested. "Anders was older and distinguished. Anion looks like a teenager."

The pirate shrugged again. "It's up to you, but I wouldn't dismiss him so easily." She shook her head. "I don't understand you, Hawke. There are two men who are obviously interested in you, yet you choose to sleep alone...are you sure you're not up for some girly fun?"

"Absolutely positive." The mage arched her brow. "You aren't usually this insistent unless it's been awhile. So just how long have you been in...what did you call it?...dry dock?"

Isabela pouted. "It's been at least three weeks now, if you can believe it."

Emily suddenly remembered that someone was missing. "Where is Merrill anyway?"

"I left her back in Ferelden." the raider explained. "She was given the task of getting all the Dalish clans in the country together for some kind of gathering."

"She was given the task? By who?" the mage asked.

"Okay," Isabela began. "I should probably start at the beginning. See Merrill and me decided to stop off in Gwaren for a few days because she had never been there before and heard that there were some interesting elven ruins nearby. So while we were at the tavern, I talked her into ordering the innkeeper's specialty, Fire Water. It's this really strong and spicy drink that she actually sets fire to and you drink it with the flames-"

"You've been around Merrill too long." Emily interrupted. "Get to the point."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Anyway, we're sitting in this tavern..." the pirate's voice trailed off and she squinted her eyes as she observed the wooden deck beneath her feet. "Wait...did you hear something?"

Emily shook her head. "I didn't hear anything."

Isabela held up her finger to quiet her friend while straining to hear. "There it was again." she observed.

The mage listened more closely, after a minute, she finally realized what the pirate was talking about. There was a hard thumping sound, like someone was kicking a wall. A few seconds later, Emily heard what sounded like muffled yelling.

The pirate sighed and rolled her eyes. "That's the biggest problem with letting those assholes get drunk just before we sail. Someone always has to start a fight." She grabbed Emily's arm. "Come on, let's see if we can break it up before it gets worse."

The mage pulled back. "Hold on a minute." she argued. "We don't know how many men are involved and they're drunk to boot. I have all the confidence in the world in our fighting abilities Isabela, but we may be taking on more than we can handle here."

"Then we'll just have to grab Fenris and your newest boyfriend to help us out. We'll be fine." the raider assured her.

Emily wanted to object to the way her friend referred to Anion as her newest boyfriend, but she thought that they should take care of the situation at hand first. As they approached the hatch leading to the lower deck, it swung open at their feet. A large, burly man with thick red hair and a long beard, covered in tattoos appeared from the opening dragging something behind him. With one tremendous heave, he threw his burden onto the deck where it landed with a dull thud.

"Oh dear Maker." Emily exclaimed when she saw what the large man had brought up with him. It was a man and he was bound, gagged and completely naked.

"And it's not even my birthday." Isabela quipped with a coy smile.

The large tattooed man who was now towering over the two women pointed his thumb in the direction of the nude man. As he spoke, Emily noticed that the few teeth that remained in his mouth were black and his putrid breath made her want to cover her nose. "Found him in the cargo hold shoved between some crates, Captain. Do you want me to toss him overboard? He's starting to stink up the place."

"Not any worse than your breath." the mage mumbled.

The large pirate glared at her. "What was that?"

"Nevermind Lucas" Isabela told him. "And don't throw him overboard, not just yet. Let's find out who he is first."

The two women moved slowly toward the stranger. He tried to bring his knees to his chest in order to cover his private areas, but it wasn't working very well. Emily felt her face brighten when she got a good look at the endowments he was trying to hide. Just before they reached the man, Fenris jumped out of the open hatch, sword drawn with Anion following close behind.

"Are you okay, Hawke?" the older elf asked.

"Yes Fenris, we're fine." she replied hoping that he hadn't noticed the blushing. "We were just about to find out who our guest is."

"Do you think that's a good idea, mal amica?" Fenris asked cautiously. "He may be dangerous."

"Well, we're not planning on untying him, at least not yet, and it isn't like he's hiding a weapon , if he does try to hurt us, you'll be here to stop him, right?"

The elf nodded in agreement before moving around to the side of the man lying on the floor. Isabela knelt down slowly and pulled the cloth down from his face and took the dirty rag from his mouth. He smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, hello." he said before a look of comprehension crossed his face. "I know you don't I? Its Isabela isn't it?"

"You're awfully glib for someone whose lying tied up and naked on the deck of my ship. Who are you?"

"Oh, where _are_ my manners?" he asked with a boyish grin. "Alistair Theirin at your service dear lady."


	8. Chapter 8

Isabela stood with a puzzled expression. "Alistair Theirin? You mean the drunk that was always loitering about the Hanged Man telling everyone who would listen that he was a prince?"

"I _am_ a prince." Alistair muttered dejectedly. "Or leastwise I was." It was something that he really didn't feel like discussing. He hoped that the interrogation would end soon. At very least he hoped that they would allow him to get dressed. As he lay there, bruised, completely naked and surrounded by strangers he came to the realization that he had finally hit rock bottom.

"How do you just stop being a prince?" A woman's voice asked from above

"It's fairly easy when you abdicate your throne." He answered without even a glance in her direction.

"And why would you do something like that?" she queried.

"Look," he sighed. "I would be happy to tell you all my long sad story over a hot meal and a couple of pints of ale. For now though, I would appreciate it if someone would untie me and give me something to wear because frankly, and this might come as a surprise to you all, I'm feeling just a _little_ exposed here."

"And what if I decide you're not worth the trouble and just have you thrown overboard?" The pirate asked.

Alistair laid his pounding head against the worn wood beneath him. He simply didn't care if he lived or died anymore. His life had been over since the day that Erin Amell betrayed him and all he stood for, subsequently ripping his heart from his chest in the process. He was already dead, his body just needed to catch up to his mind. He closed his eyes

"If you're going to toss me off the ship anyway, I'd rather you just get it over with. The sooner the better actually."

"I say we grant his wish Hawke." A deep male voice spoke out.

"No." the woman whose voice the prince did not recognize protested. "There has to be a reason why he's here, the same as the rest of us."

He felt her squat down beside him and begin to loosen the cords that had him bound. Her touch was gentle and her soft, cool hands felt good upon his rope-burned skin. She kept apologizing every time her fingers made contact with a particularly sore spot that made him wince. Her voice was sweet and soothing and he couldn't help but wonder if she was as beautiful as she sounded. Starting at her knee-length black leather boots, his eyes worked their way up her body toward her face. He saw the staff at her back grazing the deck so he knew that she was a mage. He observed skin-tight black leather breeches, followed by a tight leather corset-vest with silver grommets covering a linen blouse that hung loosely off her shoulders. His hazel eyes lingered on her full bosom for a moment before she turned away from him to concentrate on the wrist restraints at his back. His eyes trailed up to her long dark-brown hair which was pulled into a ponytail, the end of which nearly touched her almost bare shoulders. When he felt the final knot loosen and his arms were completely free she pivoted on the balls of her feet to meet his gaze with her own. What he saw caused him to scramble away from her.

"What in the bloody hell is going on here?" he demanded, his face filled with turmoil. "Is this some kind of sick joke?"

Isabela arched her brow. "What in the hell is wrong with you?"

A silver-haired elf dressed in black leather armor and brandishing a very large claymore sneered at him. "He's obviously disturbed Hawke. We should put the restraints back on him."

The all too familiar looking brunette shook her head. "No." she argued. "He's confused. There's no need to restrain him just yet."

She certainly didn't sound like the woman he knew and the elf called her Hawke. Why did that name sound so familiar? Alistair searched the recesses of his mind. Seven years of inebriation definitely made things a bit fuzzy when he tried to think. _Hawke...Hawke…where do I know that name from?_ Then it came to him. Hawke was the name of the woman who drove the Qunari from the City of Kirkwall. She was also the one who started that huge battle between the mages and the templars. But why did she look so much like-?"

"My name is Emily, Emily Hawke." She spoke to him gently and quietly, obviously trying not to upset him. "But most people just call me Hawke." Her sympathetic smile put him a little more at ease. Now that he really looked at her, he could see the subtle differences between her and Erin. Hawke's lips were fuller and her jaw was a bit more square. Her eyes were also slightly larger, but they were definitely the same shade of bright emerald-green.

"I…I'm sorry." the prince stammered. "You just remind me of someone I use to know." Thinking of Erin gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and even though Hawke wasn't the warden's exact doppelganger she still looked similar enough to make him feel the hurt that he had tried to drown for the past seven years.

"Now that you mention it," Isabela observed. "Hawke does look quite a bit like that mage you were with when I met you at the Pearl."

Emily peered up at the pirate with confusion. "What mage?" she asked.

"You know," Isabela explained. "That grey warden…the one that helped end the blight."

"Oh, her." said Emily.. "That's probably because we're cousins."

_This just gets better and better_ thought Alistair bitterly. "You mean that you are actually related to Erin?"

"I'm pretty sure that cousins are generally considered relatives." Hawke teased with a smirk.

Alistair wasn't sure if she was making fun of him or if she was simply trying to lighten the mood. Either way, it didn't matter. He wanted to get off the subject of Erin Amell completely. "So, if you've decided not to make me walk the plank, do you think I could get some clothes now?"

Isabela wrinkled her nose. "Not until you wash away the stink. You're making my eyes water and I'm not even downwind of you."

"Fine." the prince groused. "Where do I go for that?"

The pirate addressed the rather large man who had dragged him to the upper deck. "Lucas, take our friend below and make sure that he gets a proper scrubbing."

Alistair didn't really know what to expect. What he did know was that he did not like the sound of it.

* * *

Once their newly discovered stowaway was safely below deck, Emily turned to Isabela. "So what do _you_ make of this new development?"

The pirate shook her head. "I'm not sure what to think."

"I think we should have thrown him overboard." Fenris piped up.

"But why Fenris?" Emily asked. She couldn't figure out why the elf was so adamant about getting rid of Alistair.

"Because it's trouble we don't need." replied the warrior. "He is just an out of shape drunkard with a large chip on his shoulder."

Isabela snorted. "Well if Hawke was turned off by men with chips on their shoulders you certainly wouldn't be here."

"Shut up wench." Fenris sneered.

The pirate stuck out her bottom lip in a mocking pout and batted her long lashes. "What's wrong Fenris? Did I hurt your manly feelings?"

The elf's shoulders and chest began rising and falling heavily as his anger began to overtake him. "I told you to shut your mouth, whore."

Fenris's obvious rage did nothing to quell Isabela's taunting."I think you're afraid that Hawke will end up liking princey more than you…I think _you_ are just jealous."

"Jealous?" the warrior scoffed. "Jealous of what? A slovenly, besotted has-been that will run out on his companions and his duty when things get too difficult or don't go his way?"

"Wait." Emily interrupted. "What are you talking about?"

Isabela appeared genuinely surprised. "You mean you've never heard the story of the Bastard Prince of Ferelden?"

The mage shook her head. "No, I make it a habit not to pay attention to idle gossip and rumors."

"Oh honey," the pirate smirked. "It's no rumor. I heard it first hand from a soldier that was actually present at the Landsmeet where our friend was exiled. It was said that during the battle of Ostagar, Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir had retreated as soon as his troops were called upon by the king."

Emily remembered that part of the story. Her brother Carver was there when it happened and barely made it out alive. "Yes, I knew about that part already." she interrupted.

"Well, when the battle was over, there were only two Grey Wardens left in all of Ferelden, Alistair and your cousin. When Loghain found out that there were wardens who actually survived, he put out a bounty on them and even went so far as to hire an Antivan assassin to get rid of them. You remember Zevran?"

Emily nodded. Of course she remembered Zevran. She was tricked into hunting him down for the Crows and because she spared his life, he showed up in Kirkwall in time to fight at her side against Meredith. She had no idea that he had been involved in the events that took place during the Blight.

"Anyway," Isabela continued. "After getting all the allies together that they could and gathering some damning information against Loghain, the Arl of Redcliffe called for a Landsmeet. His plan was to remove the teyrn and his daughter Queen Anora from the throne and to raise Alistair as king. Loghain lost the Landsmeet, but refused to yield until the female warden defeated him in one on one combat. Alistair called for Loghain's execution, but your cousin surprised everyone when she decided to not only spare the general, but made him a Grey Warden.

Alistair was furious. He announced then and there that even though he had been reluctant to take the crown before, he would take the throne in order to see justice done and make sure that Loghain got what he deserved. Since she was the one who defeated Loghain in battle, the final decision of the rule of the country was put in the warden's hands and she shocked everyone by denouncing Alistair and allowing Anora to maintain her position as queen. The only decent thing that the warden did out of all of it was to insist that Anora spare Alistair's life after the queen called for his execution. So Anora did the next best thing. She insisted that the prince renounce the throne for both himself and all of his heirs. Alistair was so upset by the events that he agreed to abdicate and walked away from everything, including his duty as a Grey Warden. He boarded a ship that same day and never returned to Ferelden."

After hearing Isabela's story, Emily found herself feeling very sorry for the prince. She couldn't even imagine how difficult all of that must have been for him. She opened her mouth to tell the others not to mention anything about what happened in Ferelden in Alistair's presence, but was cut off by the prince's appearance next to her.

He was dressed in a loose, ivory linen shirt with the laces at the top left open, and over that, a dark brown vest. Matching suede trousers and soft suede boots completed the ensemble. His face was scruffy but his facial hair could hardly have been called a beard and Emily noticed for the first time that he was actually a very attractive man. In fact, having him stand so near, caused the mage's breath to quicken.

"I recognize that story" he frowned, crossing his arms to his chest. "It's the sad, pathetic tale of how the woman I loved broke my heart and destroyed my life." Fenris mimicked the prince's gesture and harrumphed. Alistair arched an eyebrow and glared at the elf. "Did I say something to offend you?"

The warrior shook his head. "You are expecting everyone here to feel sorry for you because your pride was wounded. You have no idea what it means to suffer."

"I never asked anyone to feel sorry for me." The prince retorted.

"No," Fenris shot back. "I guess you feel sorry enough for yourself that you need no outside help."

"What's your problem?" shouted Alistair. "Did I do something to you that I wasn't aware of? Do I even know you?"

The elf's eyes narrowed. "No, but I know you." he seethed. "Or your kind anyway. You are nothing but a spoiled little rich boy who hates his life because he did not get his way."

Alistair's brow furrowed. "You don't know anything about me. You don't have a clue who I am or what my life was like before all of that shit went down. Who are _you_ to judge me anyway?"

The lyrium lines in Fenris's skin lit up silver-blue and Emily knew that things were getting out of hand. She stepped between the two men and held her arms out at her sides to stop them from trying to kill each other.

"Okay you two." She commanded. "Enough! We are not going to stand here comparing whose life has been the hardest and who has the most scars."

"There _is_ no comparison." Fenris sneered.

"Stop it!" the mage ordered angrily. Her friend's hostility toward Alistair made her wonder if Isabela had been right when she said that the elf was jealous. "Everyone here has known pain, suffering and loss to some capacity. I put up with this kind of shit for way too many years just to have to listen to it start all over again. This ends now."

Emily stood there, panting in anger just waiting for someone to make a snide comment or start another argument. Even Isabela remained quiet at seeing her friend's ire. When the mage was sure that the situation was under control, she put her arms back down to her sides and straightened her corset.

"Now, if we are finished arguing, I think we need to get down to the business at hand."

"And what business is that?" asked the prince. Although his words were calm, he continued to stare daggers at Fenris.

Emily placed her hand on Alistair's chin and turned his eyes hazel eyes to hers. As soon as her fingers made contact with his skin, she felt a kind of electricity surge through her body and fluttering in her stomach. The prince gasped and quickly backed away from her as if her very touch had burned his skin before averting his eyes to the wooden planks below his feet.

_Oh well, _the mage thought to herself with just a hint of wounded pride, _at least he's not glaring at Fenris anymore. _She inhaled slowly and deeply to gain her composure before beginning her explanation. "We need to figure out what we are all doing here."

Alistair leaned his shoulder against the mast to his right, clasped his hands together and crossed his right leg over his left. He avoided Emily's eyes choosing instead to speak to Isabela. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I am here because I owed a very nasty Carta dwarf a great deal of coin that I couldn't pay. Luckily, some old woman settled my debt. Unluckily, she gave the little shit extra coin to ensure that I made it onto this ship. I saw the flat end of a rather large tattooed fist and the next thing I knew, I was waking up tied up, naked and gagged surrounded by crates."

"An old woman?" Anion spoke for the first time since appearing at Fenris's side. Emily had almost forgotten he was there. "Do you know who she was?"

The prince shook his head. "No. I didn't see her and Silas didn't seem to recognize her."

"That's odd." Isabela mumbled, seemingly perplexed. "My friend Merrill and I were drugged and taken to a Dalish camp outside Gwaren. While we were there, this wicked looking woman in tight red and black leather showed up. I mean, her outfit was just amazing and I kept thinking that I would _love _to get one just like it-"

"Can you please focus Isabela?" Emily interrupted with more than a little annoyance.

"Oh…right." the pirate grinned before returning her attention to her story. "Anyway, as I was saying, this woman shows up and convinces Merrill that she needs to get all the Dalish clans together and then she and Merrill talk me into sailing to Greenvale to pick up a couple of important, but nameless passengers. So here I am."

"Is there anything else?" the mage prodded.

Isabela pursed her lips for a moment. "No, not that I can think of." She began mumbling to herself. "Merrill called her something…what was it? Bell? Bella?"

"Asha' belannar?" Emily asked already knowing the answer.

"That's it!" exclaimed the raider. "Asha' belannar."

The mage crossed her arms, her brow creased in thought. "It seems that Flemeth is behind all of this."

"Flemeth?" Alistair asked. His face was mired with complete bewilderment. "You mean the Witch of the Wilds? That Flemeth?"

Emily's green eyes went wide. "You know her?"

The prince nodded. "She saved Erin and me from the Tower of Ishal at Ostagar and afterward she asked that we take her daughter with us when we left."

"You mean Morrigan?" the mage inquired.

"Yes, but how do you know about Morrigan?" His hazel eyes finally met hers again and it caused her to draw a deep, uneven breath.

"Fl…Flemeth mentioned her name." Emily stuttered. Dear Maker what was wrong with her? She had to get it together. "Anyway…you were saying?"

"Yes, well anyhow." Alistair continued, averting his eyes back to Isabela. "I'm a bit shocked to hear that Isabela actually met her."

"Why is that?" Isabela huffed. "Do you think I'm lying?"

"No" He muttered. "But I don't see how it's possible. Erin and I killed her."

Emily had always wondered what the witch had meant when she said that the amulet was a bit of security should the inevitable occur. "Well, you killed _most_ of her." Emily told him.

He turned his gaze to meet her eyes once again. His stare was questioning and vehement. "What do you mean _most_ of her? I don't remember any body parts scurrying away after the battle and I assure you that she was unquestionably dead."

Emily opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words. She was lost in those hazel eyes which were boring a hole into the core of her being. She wasn't sure if the expression the prince wore was one of longing, pain or unadulterated hate, but she had never felt anything so intense in her entire life. He stood there, countenance unchanging, waiting for her answer. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, she was able to tear her eyes away from his and stare at the toes of her boots.

She gulped and took a deep breath before finally daring to speak. "I don't know how she did it, but somehow she put a part of her spirit or something inside an amulet which she asked me to take to Sundermount in the Free Marches. Our Dalish friend Merrill performed a ritual to free Flemeth from the talisman and then she turned into a dragon and flew away."

"What?" Alistair shouted standing at his full height. "Why in Andraste's name would you agree to do something like that? Didn't you know how dangerous she was? I knew that old hag was trouble within the first five minutes of meeting her. So are you blind or just stupid?"

"She didn't know that the witch was inside the amulet." Fenris bellowed, stomping toward the man who had just insulted the woman he loved. The elf's tone became threatening as he stared up into the taller man's eyes, daring him to speak. "She was just as surprised as the rest of us. And you would do well not to speak to Hawke in that manner, especially in _my_ presence."

The prince closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. "My sincere apologies." he said with a small bow first to Fenris and then to Emily. "And to you dear lady, I am truly sorry. Sometimes my mouth works before my brain, a product of the pickling process I' have been putting it through for the past seven years."

The mage gave him a nod and small smile, but kept her gaze at his chest so as not to look him in the eye again. She just couldn't trust herself to do so.

"So what now?" Alistair asked after a few intense moments. "Where are we going?"

Everyone turned to Isabela for the answer. Her brow arched. "Wait...why are you all looking at me?"

"Well you're the only one here that spoke to Flemeth directly." Emily observed.

"Look," asserted the pirate. "I was just told to go to Greenvale. I assumed that whomever I was picking up would know where I was taking them."

"Great." Alistair huffed. "Adrift on the sea with no clue where we are going or why." He chuckled bitterly. "A mission with no clear goal or direction. Figures."

"Oh will you stop complaining?" Fenris hissed. "If you hadn't noticed, this doesn't just involve you."

"Fine." Alistair groused. "Since you have all the answers elf, why don't _you_ tell us what we're supposed to be doing?"

"Fasta vass." cursed the warrior. "Nequame fillium del unum mereticum"

"Care to repeat that in a language we can _all_ understand?" the prince sneered. "Or are you too afraid to translate?"

Once again Emily had to step between the two men. She really didn't think that Alistair would appreciate being called a worthless son of a whore. The mage didn't know much Tevene, but she recognized that phrase very well as it seemed to be one of Fenris's favorites. "Need I remind you two that we are on a ship out in the middle of the ocean? It isn't exactly like you can avoid seeing each other. Not only that, but we need to work together to figure this out."

"You are correct, Hawke." Fenris relinquished. "I…apologize." Emily knew that her friend's concession was directed at her and not in any way to Alistair, but she chose not to push the issue.

"By the way Hawke," Isabela began somewhat apprehensively as if she were about to delve out very bad news. "I kind of neglected to mention something." She began fidgeting and chewing at her bottom lip. "I'm not sure where we are supposed to go or what we're supposed to be doing, but I think I know what all of this is about."

The mage eyed her suspiciously, wondering why Isabela hadn't spoken up before if she had any idea about what was going on. "Okay, Isabela…spit it out."

The pirate sighed heavily and Emily recognized sympathy in the woman's brown eyes. "Queen Anora signed a treaty…with Tevinter." Isabela then turned her gaze to Fenris. "And now the magisters have taken over all of the provinces in Ferelden."


	9. Chapter 9

Silence filled the night air, broken only by the sound of the sea's gentle waves lapping against the ship. Emily expected Fenris to go into a rage at hearing Isabela's words, but he just stood there, breathing heavily and searching the surface of the deck with his eyes. Alistair looked as if he were in complete shock. Emily herself just didn't know what to say. The Tevinter Imperium had taken over her homeland. How was that even possible? Why would the Queen have just handed the country over to them?

"Explain this." Fenris spoke in a low voice, his eyes never moving from the floor.

"Yes, please." added Alistair. "Where did you hear this?"

Isabela let out a long ragged breath. "When we left Ostwick, Merrill and I travelled north to Antiva first and then made our way around Rialto Bay to Rivain. To pay for the voyage, I hired the ship out a few times by moving some cargo along the bay. I didn't know what the cargo was and I didn't want to know, but I was at least _trying _to keep the work legitimate.

"You?" Emily interrupted with an arched brow. "Legitimate?" She couldn't imagine that the raider would ever give up piracy.

"Yes, well, after what happened in Kirkwall I didn't want to draw any extra attention to myself, so for once I tried to work within the law. Go figure, huh?" the pirate replied. "Anyway, Merrill kept saying that she missed Ferelden so I asked her if there was anywhere particular that she wanted to go. She told me Gwaren because of the elven ruins in the forest outside of the city so we plotted a course there straight from Llomerynn.

When we docked and started heading into the city, I noticed that everyone was acting very strange and I was getting a really bad vibe. We hadn't gotten more than a few yards from the landing when we were approached by a guard who told us that we needed to supply up and get out. As you can imagine, my reputation precedes me and I've been to a lot of places where I wasn't welcome, but Gwaren was never one of them.

As I said before, I was trying to stay out of trouble so rather than argue the point, I told my first officer to gather the men and get the supplies we needed so we could shove off within a couple of hours. In the meantime, I took Merrill to this tavern called the Staggering Dwarf. While we are sitting at the bar waiting for Felsi to make our drinks-"

"Wait a minute." interrupted Alistair. "Felsi?"

"Yeah," Isabela answered. "She bought the place during the Blight after the owner decided to head to the Free Marches and renamed it."

Alistair crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly to the left. "Let me guess, in honor of a dwarf named Oghren, right?"

"Yes," Isabela replied seemingly surprised by the prince's knowledge of the innkeeper's history. "But how did you know that?"

He shrugged. "Just a hunch."

Emily glanced at Fenris and could tell that he was growing very impatient with all the interruptions with idle banter. She knew that she had to get Isabela back on point before the elf lost control of his temper again.

"So what happened at the bar, Izzy?" the mage asked which earned her a very small but grateful smile from Fenris.

"Anyhow," the pirate continued "I asked Felsi why everyone was acting so strange. She said that she didn't know what I was talking about and that everything was fine, but it was easy to see that she was lying. Since we were the only ones in the place, I couldn't understand why she wouldn't just tell me the truth. Then, right after that, four men in hooded cloaks walked in and sat a table in the far corner. I didn't pay much attention to it at the time because the Staggering Dwarf isn't exactly the Gnawed Noble and shady characters are in and out of there all the time.

After our second drink, Merrill turns to me and says she's not feeling well. At first I figure it's just because she's not use to drinking, but then I realize that everything's starting to go a bit fuzzy. The next thing I know, I'm waking up alone in one of those Dalish landships in the middle of the forest somewhere. A few minutes later, Merrill shows up and tells me that she needs me to follow her because there is somebody who wants to talk to me. That's when I met the witch."

Everyone on the deck seemed to be holding their breath waiting for Isabela to continue. The pirate began mumbling to herself and pacing up and down between the ship's two masts.

"Isabela." Emily prodded impatiently.

The pirate shook her head. "I'm sorry Hawke, I was trying to remember exactly what Flemeth said, but it was a bit vague and I was still pretty groggy at the time from whatever it was that got put in my drink."

"It's okay, Izzy." the mage reassured her with a much calmer tone. "Just tell us what you do remember."

Isabela nodded. "Well, the short of it is just what I told you. She said that the queen signed over power to the Imperium and the magisters had taken the place of the lords that used to rule the lands."

"Was there anything else?" Alistair asked. Emily wasn't sure if the expression he wore was one of anger or sadness.

"Other than her telling me that I needed to go to Greenvale, no, not that I can remember anyway. At first I wasn't going to do it, but Merrill said it was important. I asked her why I should get involved since I wasn't even from Ferelden and she told me that Tevinter wouldn't stop there. With Ferelden under its control, the Imperium would have a stronger army which would make it easier to take over the rest of Thedas."

"Of course" Fenris snarled. _His_ countenance was easy to read. Fenris was infuriated. "If the Imperium has control of the southern lands, it can flank the rest by moving in from both the north and south."

"It's pretty sound military strategy." agreed Alistair.

Fenris's green eyes were nearly invisible between the slits of his lids as he glared at the prince. "You find that impressive?" Emily could tell that the elf was just waiting for Alistair to say the wrong thing so Fenris could rip him apart.

"I said it was sound military strategy," the prince glowered back. "I didn't say I was happy about it. This is _my _country we're talking about."

"Yes," quipped a grimacing Fenris. "The country you abandoned."

"Fenris!" Emily chided.

Alistair held up his hand. "No, he's right." His shoulders slumped. He walked to the portside railing and leaned against it, turning his back to the others. "I did abandon Ferelden. I couldn't see past my own anger far enough to do the right thing."

Emily wanted to say something to comfort him. She wanted to tell him that none of it was his fault and that she would do anything that was in her power to help him fix the mess that Anora made. She just wasn't sure how. She approached him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Don't" he whispered, shrugging her hand away.

Once again, Emily tried not to take his rejection of her touch personally. She placed her forearms across the railing, leaned into it and clasped her hands together. "I'm sorry." she said, staring out into nothingness. "I can't even begin to imagine how difficult all of this is for you."

The prince shook his head, his eyes never straying from the dark waves below. "I just don't understand it. Anora was a greedy, power-hungry bitch. What could have possibly happened to convince her to share that power with _anyone_, let alone Tevinter? And how could the nobles just let it happen? Why didn't anyone fight against it?"

Emily exhaled slowly. "I don't know, Alistair…I just don't know." Suddenly, she remembered a question she had wanted to ask Isabela before. She stole a glance in the prince's direction before circling to face the others. She addressed the pirate. "Isabela, why did Flemeth tell Merrill to bring all of the Dalish together for a gathering?"

Before Isabela could answer, Fenris spoke. "Because the magisters will be hunting down all of the elves in the country to make them slaves and Merrill was sent to warn them. Holding a gathering will show them that it is an actual threat to their people and not just a rumor"

With an expression of both puzzlement and pity, the pirate stared at the warrior for a moment before nodding. "Yes, that's exactly right."

Fenris's dark green eyes took on a haunted quality as if he were lost in his past. "So what can we do to stop this?" he asked.

Alistair finally turned to the others. "We need to go to Orlais and speak to the Divine. If she knew about this, she would have already sent troops to Ferelden to drive the Tevinters out."

Emily couldn't believe what she was hearing. She finally allowed herself to look into the prince's eyes again and the reflection of defeat and guilt in those hazel orbs was enough to break her heart. She swallowed back the rather large lump that had formed in her throat.

"But Alistair…won't that mean Orlesian occupation?"

"Yes" he sighed. "My father fought to end the tyranny of Orlais and won Ferelden's independence. Now, I'm talking about handing the country back to the Orlesians, but I don't see where we have any choice in the matter. The five of us certainly aren't going to be able to lay siege to the land and take it back from the Imperium. Even if we had this friend Merrill of yours along with every Dalish elf in Ferelden fighting at our sides, we still wouldn't stand a chance against a bunch of magisters, let alone the Ferelden and Imperial armies. The country is lost either way, now it's just a question of the lesser of two evils."

Emily nodded. She understood what he was saying and she made the decision then and there to stay by his side and help him see his plan through. The prince gave her a small, sad smile. "Well, that's my opinion anyway. I only hold one-fifth of the vote." He took one last long look out over the water before returning his attention back to the other four. "Whatever you decide to do, I'm with you. But for now I'm going to turn in for the night."

The mage smiled at him sympathetically. "Okay, Alistair. Is there anything you need?"

"No." he stated flatly. As he turned toward that hatch and passed by Emily, she heard him mutter under his breath. "Nothing but a stiff drink or two or ten"

Once Alistair had disappeared below deck, Fenris grabbed Emily by her biceps and turned her to face him. His usual demeanor had been replaced by…fear. "Please Hawke, please tell me that you are not actually thinking of going through with this."

"I don't know of any other options Fenris." she explained.

"Then let Alistair go in to speak to the Divine by himself."

"I can't do that, mal amica." she told him. "Alistair can't do this alone."

"Do you realize what will happen to you if you set foot inside Val Royeaux? And even if they don't capture you right away, even if you miraculously are able to get in to see the Divine without being recognized, even if you get to speak to her, as soon as you are finished they will arrest you."

"I know Fenris."

"They will execute you Hawke."

"I realize that, but if it will save my people, my homeland, it will be worth it."

He placed a hand on either side of her face and pulled her closer. As he frantically searched her emerald-green eyes, he began to caress her cheeks with his thumbs. "Then let me be the one to accompany him…Please Emily, I can't just let you die."

He called her Emily. He had never called her by her given name before…ever. No matter how much she wanted to tell him what he wanted to hear, she just couldn't. She moved her forehead forward until it touched his and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry Fenris, but I have to do this."

She felt him nod his head before feeling his soft lips touch her cheek. He backed away and walked past her toward the hatch leading to the lower deck without another word. It took every bit of strength Emily had not to let the tears she felt forming in her eyes fall to her cheeks. She sniffed and swallowed back the bile that she felt rising from her stomach before turning to Isabela.

"Turn the ship around. Set a course for Val Royeaux."


	10. Chapter 10

Fenris found his way back to his bunk and laid down. He put his right forearm across his face and over his eyes to block out the dim light from the uncovered lyrium lamp on a nearby wall. The elf felt nauseous. How could have allowed himself to lose his composure like that on the deck? His heart raced with the memory of having Hawke so near him, of feeling the skin of her soft cheek against his lips. He wondered if she knew that it was more than merely a friendly gesture.

He had never gotten as close to baring his true feelings for her as he had just a few moments before, not even on that night that they made love. The thought of losing her…it was something his heart couldn't take. He couldn't understand why she thought she had to sacrifice herself. Alistair was perfectly capable of speaking to the Divine without Hawke at his side.

The thought of the prince brought other feelings to the surface…anger, hostility, disgust…jealousy. At first, his animosity toward Alistair had simply been because of who and what the man was, but when he saw Hawke look at him that way…Maker help him, it made him envious of that broken-down piece of shit. Why didn't she ever look at him in that manner anymore? Had he waited so long that she really had lost every ounce of those feelings for him?

Somehow, he had to learn to swallow his pride. Somehow, he had to get past his fear of her rejection. Somehow, he had to tell her how he felt. He had to tell her how much he loved her before it was too late, before he lost her to either the Void or Alistair.

* * *

Alistair had picked up three bottles of wine from the galley on his way to the cargo hold. After waking up bound to a chair and surrounded by rats, he had made a promise to both Andraste and himself that he would never get drunk again. He had really meant what he said, but that was before he found out that his father's great but short legacy was about to be erased by him. He never knew his father. Hell, he never even met the man, but he was still King Maric's only surviving son and that was a lot to live up to.

Unfortunately, Alistair was nothing but a disgrace, a sad ending to an epic tale of greatness. He renounced his throne for what? Just to have Loghain die anyway? Alistair hadn't wanted to die killing the archdemon. He hadn't wanted Erin to die either. So why the hell didn't he just let her make Loghain a Grey Warden without an argument? Would she have put him on the throne if he had agreed? Is that why Erin decided to give the crown to Anora? Was it really his inability to show mercy to that murdering, treacherous snake that lost him the crown?

As he was drinking down the last few drops of the first bottle of wine, the prince heard the scraping of the door to the hold as it opened. He remained still and quiet, hoping that whoever it was would just move on, but he was disappointed when he heard the floor planks creak from someone walking toward him.

"I thought I might find you in here." he heard a woman's voice say.

He uncorked the second bottle and took a long swig. "Just thought I'd celebrate the upcoming Orlesian occupation of my homeland." he replied sardonically. "You know, the one my father fought so hard against to win the country's independence."

He expected her to argue with him, to say something to try to comfort him. But to his surprise she simply asked, "Do you mind if I join you?"

He didn't even bother to look up, choosing instead to draw another drink. "I don't mind, but there's only one unoccupied bottle left."

"That's okay." he heard her say as she plopped down next to him on the floor. "I brought my own. Times like this, I prefer something stronger anyway." A bottle of clear liquid came into his view. "I brought one for you too, if you're interested."

Alistair eyed the bottle for a moment before asking, "What is it?"

"Well," she replied "according to Isabela, it's the finest rum in all of Antiva. Apparently, she did know what was in a couple of those crates she was moving and decided to keep one for herself."

"There's a whole crateful of this stuff?" the prince inquired with more than just mild interest.

"Minus the three bottles I currently have in my possession." She answered pushing the offered container into his chest.

He chugged down the remaining bottle wine he had been working on, threw the empty container to the side and took the rum from her hand. "Thanks." he muttered before finally daring to look at her.

She had her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs, one of the bottles of rum dangling from her right hand. She laid her left temple across her knees and gazed at him with her brilliant emerald-green eyes. He couldn't help but think that he had never seen anything as beautifully stunning in his entire life. She didn't smile or show any emotion on her face at all, she simply stared at him.

Alistair suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to untie her hair and watch it spill down around her face and shoulders. His gaze trailed down to her full lips which were parted ever so slightly. He licked his own as he hungered to feel the softness of those lips upon his. Her chest rose and fell heavily as she watched him and the mental image of feeling it against him caused his manhood to rise and jerk violently.

He looked into her eyes again and all at once his mind was filled with images from the past he had been trying so hard to forget. Like the first time he laid eyes on Erin and made a stupid joke which netted him a disapproving frown, or the way he always tried to get her to smile which was normally countered with her rolling her eyes. Alistair could never figure out how he won Erin's favor because she was always so staunch and serious all the time and seemed annoyed by his very presence. She and Morrigan always got along so well and he knew that they talked about him behind his back. Just when he decided to give up hope on ever earning her respect, let alone her love, her hard exterior began to soften.

He recalled the night that he kissed Erin for the first time. He asked her if she would miss any of the adventures they had once the Blight was over which caused her to question if he was really asking if she would miss him or not. He mustered every bit of courage that he had and confessed his feelings for her. When he asked if she could ever feel the same way about him, she told him that it was too soon to tell. He then swallowed every ounce of pride he had and kissed her. To his utter amazement, she didn't pull away and after the kiss was over, she actually smiled.

For the following few weeks, she drove him crazy by stealing kisses when no one was watching and giving him coy smiles from across the camp. He wanted to make love to her so badly, but he was afraid to muck up their budding relationship. The other problem he had was that she knew he was a virgin and he wasn't sure that she would want to be with someone with no experience. She finally surprised him one night by asking him to make love to her.

That night was the best experience of Alistair's life. Even afterward, nothing ever compared to that first night with Erin. He lost his heart to her that evening and any lingering doubts he had about their relationship vanished completely. His life was forfeit to her the moment she told him that she loved him. He would have done anything, gone anywhere for her, given her anything she asked for…well, almost anything.

"Alistair," Hawke's voice mercifully interrupted his thoughts of Erin. "Are you still in there?"

"Yeah." he mumbled. "Still here." He popped the cork from the bottle she had given him with his thumb and took a drink.

"I thought I lost you there for a minute." she chuckled.

"Well, maybe for a minute." He watched her sit back and straighten her left leg before taking a swig from her own bottle. They sat in silence for quite a while, each taking a turn with their drinks every few minutes. The tension in the air that surrounded them was as thick as an ogre's skin. Alistair decided he had to do something to relieve it before it drove him mad. "So," he observed. "You're boyfriend doesn't seem to like me very much."

Hawke seemed slightly confused by his words. "My boyfriend?"

"Yeah, you know, the elf with the big sword and all the attitude."

"That's actually a pretty good description of Fenris." she chortled. "But he isn't my boyfriend."

The prince arched his brow. "Does he know that?"

"It's…complicated." she said with no further explanation before taking another drink of rum.

It was a longshot, but he thought he would ask. "What about the other guy? The blonde one with the braid?"

Hawke actually snorted and spewed rum all down the front of her blouse at that question. Alistair couldn't help but find her reaction absolutely adorable. She shook her head. "You're kidding right? Do I look like someone who's interested in robbing cradles?"

He shrugged. "Just wondering."

She rotated her body to face him, crossing her legs and resting her knees on the sides of her feet. She arched a brow. "Why? Are you shopping for a new girlfriend or something?"

Alistair held his free hand up to his chest. "Just making conversation."

He thought he noticed a look of disappointment in her eyes before she took another swig and answered his question. "If you're asking if I'm romantically involved with anyone, the answer is no…at least not anymore."

"Got your heart broken too, huh?" he queried. He wasn't sure why he wanted to know. Maybe he just wanted to feel like there was somebody else around who had an inkling of what he was going through himself.

"Sort of." she whispered then gulped down more rum. She wiped her mouth with the back of her left hand. "His name was Anders. We were together for about four years, lived together for three…we were supposed to get married, but…"

Her voice trailed off as her glistening green eyes moved to her left side. She bit her bottom lip and Alistair could see the utter heartbreak and sorrow she was feeling written all over her face. They were emotions he knew all too well.

"What happened?" he gently prodded. He knew that he should have just dropped the subject. He couldn't explain it. He could tell how much it was upsetting her, but for some reason he wanted to…no needed to know.

She swallowed. "He was stabbed with a poisoned blade during our battle against the templars. I didn't find out how badly he was wounded until after we left the city." The prince observed a tear trickle down Hawke's cheek and held his breath waiting for her to finish. "I was holding his hand when he died."

He exhaled loudly when she spoke the last word. His own self-pity was forgotten while he watched one of the strongest women in Thedas reduced to grief-stricken tears. "I don't know what's wrong with me." She said trying to choke back her anguish and wiping her tears away with her fingertips. "I'm never like this…I don't cry…you can ask anybody."

If he hadn't been intoxicated, he would have never even considered it, but he reached out his arms and pulled her into a tight embrace. He felt her body trembling as she sobbed into his chest. "I'm sorry, Hawke." he whispered softly. "I am so sorry. I shouldn't have pried." He gently began stroking her hair and as he held onto her, his own tears began to flow.

He nuzzled his cheek against the top of her head, relishing in the feeling of the first real human contact he had experienced since the fateful day of the Landsmeet. He had been with other women since then, but just as a way to satisfy his lust. He had never allowed anyone to get anywhere near the walled-up pieces of his broken heart, but sitting there on that floor with Hawke, he felt a crack in what he thought had been an impenetrable fortress.

Her body stopped shaking and she gazed up at him, her green eyes shining like polished stones. Streaks of black stained her face where her make-up had run. He flashed a crooked grin as he reached up and swiped his fingers across her face. At that very moment, there was nothing in the world he wanted more than to make her smile. He rubbed his nose against hers and stared deeply into her eyes. "I hate to tell you this," he whispered, trying to keep a straight face. "But you look absolutely hideous."

Her brow creased in confusion for a moment before she pressed her forehead against his and broke out into laughter, the sound of which caused him laugh as well. At first Alistair found himself attracted to Hawke because of her resemblance to Erin. But the instant he made her laugh at his lame attempt to cheer her up, he realized that his feelings had nothing to do with the woman who broke his heart. Hawke may have looked like Erin, but they were two different people with two very distinct personalities.

The prince still wasn't sure if he would be able to ever trust any woman with his heart again, especially an Amell, but at that moment he seriously considered it. Once their laughter had subsided, he reached up and took her face into his palms and she smiled up at him. He became lost in her eyes. "Maker's breath." he said softly "you are beautiful Emily."

"So which is it, my handsome prince?" she teased quietly. "Hideous or beautiful?"

He lowered his gaze to her lips and gently traced them with his thumb. "Stunning." He whispered before covering her mouth with his. As he moved his arms down to encircle her waist, he felt hers wrap around his neck just before she pulled him in closer. It felt as if his heart might beat of his chest and he wondered if she could feel its rhythm against her own. He felt the tip of her tongue brush lightly against his, encouraging him to explore her mouth even deeper.

The alcohol he drank, the smell of her perfume, the feel of her body, the taste of her kiss-they all fused together and sparked a flame of desire within Alistair the like of which he had never known before. In fact, he never wanted anything more than he wanted Emily Hawke at that moment. His right hand moved up to her left breast and he began teasing her hard nipple with the flat of his thumb. He trailed soft kisses down to her right shoulder where he opened his mouth and began to softly suck on her flesh. A guttural moan of pleasure escaped from her throat as she grabbed a handful of his hair and encouraged him to suck harder. His mouth moved up to her ear where he let out a long, slow, hot breath into its opening. She gasped and he felt her body quake beneath his expert touch.

"Emily" he moaned as he nipped at her lobe. "I need to be with you. Stay with me tonight."

She turned his head and pressed her mouth to his once again. He could taste the rum she had been drinking as he gently ran his teeth across her bottom lip. She pulled back, her breath coming in short gasps. He moved in to kiss her again, and she stopped him by placing her fingertips across his lips.

"Wait." she whispered.

He pulled her hand away from his face, the corners of his mouth curling into a crooked, sexy grin. "I'm not sure that I can." Alistair proclaimed before kissing her again and leaning back onto the floor pulling her with him as he went. He grabbed her thigh and pulled it across his body until she was straddling him. His right hand moved up to the back of her head while he kneaded and massaged her buttocks with his left. She shifted slightly and he could feel her heat against his groin even through the leather she was wearing. His left hand moved around to the front of her trousers and he began to untie the leather laces. She sat up, causing her privates to press into his even harder.

"Wait." Emily repeated in a strained voice. She was practically panting. "Alistair, wait."

He took her by the hands and pulled her back into him, joining their lips together once more. His right hand moved up and pulled loose the ribbon that held back her hair. Her wavy, dark brown mane spilled down and curtained both of their faces. The prince reached up and tucked the thick tresses behind her ears and the sight of her made him suck in a deep breath. He brought her back in for another kiss, but after only a couple of minutes, she pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. She smiled and stroked his blonde hair.

"I have to say something." Emily began, "and I have to say it now…before this goes any further."

Alistair placed his right hand on her cheek and caressed it with his thumb. Smirking flirtatiously, he pulled her face closer to his and rubbed the tip of his nose against hers, "You can tell me _anything_ sweetheart."

His words caused her to visibly shudder as she inhaled deeply. She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. "Okay, I don't know exactly how to say this," she began "I'm usually not very good at expressing my feelings. People tell me that I tend to deflect serious topics with sarcasm and humor…and I guess that's true…"

Alistair couldn't believe his ears. He had learned to do the exact same thing at a very early age. Emily was _definitely_ not like Erin, who had no sense of humor to speak of.

"Anyway," she continued. "I just wanted to let you know, before this goes any further, that I'm not really a one-night stand kind of woman. I really want this…you, but…if that's something that you can't handle, then I'm afraid we need to stop this now because I'm just drunk enough and want you badly enough to give in if we don't."

Alistair sighed before using his weight to roll her over onto her back. He gazed into her beautiful emerald-green eyes for a long moment before softly touching his lips to hers one last time. He then lifted his upper body enough to support most of his weight on his elbows and lightly began to run his fingers through her hair.

"First of all, I want you to know that you are an incredibly beautiful and sexy woman and any man would be lucky to be with you." She swallowed hard and he could tell that she was bracing herself for his next word. "but…"

"That man isn't you." she finished sadly.

Alistair shook his head. He wished that he could say yes, he really wanted to, and not just because he wanted to have sex with her. Even though they had only met a few hours ago, there was something about her that made him want to throw caution to the wind and hold onto her forever. But he was a broken man and his heart had been scarred too badly to ever recover. He just wasn't capable of being the man that she wanted, that she needed. "You deserve someone who can love you and take care of you." he whispered. "I can't do that Emily…I'm sorry."

She nodded and he stood, pulling her up with him. She touched his cheek and gave him a small, sad smile before silently turning and walking out the door. The deep recesses of Alistair's heart were screaming at him to run after her, but the walls around them stopped him from doing so. In the long run, he knew he made the right decision, but it definitely wasn't the easy one. He sighed. It seemed that _nothing_ was ever easy.


	11. Chapter 11

Emily awoke with a pounding head to the sound of a loud female voice assaulting her ears. "Rise and shine, my beautiful sleeping friend. It's time to face the day...and pay the piper."

"Go away Isabela." the mage moaned covering her face with the pillow that her head had been resting on.

"Uh-uh" refused the pirate. "Somebody got into the rum last night and judging by the empty bottle lying under your bunk, I would say that someone was you."

"I'll pay you for them later." whined Emily. "Just leave me alone and let me go back to sleep."

Isabela jerked the pillow from her friend's grasp and gave her a knowing smile. "I noticed that our resident royal is also feeling a bit out of sorts this morning. Is there something you want to share?"

The mage shook her head. "Nothing happened if that's what you're insinuating." she lied.

The pirate's brow lifted. "Then why is your lip cream smeared?"

Emily sat up and wiped her mouth only to see a huge cat-like grin cross her friend's face. "My lips cream's not really smeared, is it?"

Isabela chuckled. "You're not even wearing any."

"Ugh." groaned the mage as she threw herself back down onto her hammock. "You are a wretched bitch and I hate you."

Emily's words only made Isabela laugh harder as the pirate grabbed her by the hand and pulled her out of bed. After her chortling died down, she grabbed Emily by the face and squinted her eyes. "Okay, don't be stingy. Spill. What happened? Did you...?

The mage shook her head causing Isabela to loosen her grip. "I'm not telling you anything, Isabela."

"Oh, come on Hawke" the pirate insisted with a pout. "I tell you stories about my…escapades all the time."

"Yeah, but you always volunteer those stories." Emily countered. "Most of the time I don't even want to know the details."

"Fair point, I suppose" Isabela groused. There was a long pause and just when the mage thought that her friend had given up, Isabela gave her a shoulder bump. "So...what happened?"

Emily sighed with exasperation. "Fine…we kissed." Isabela crossed her arms, tilted her head down and looked at the mage with disbelief. Emily rolled her eyes. "Okay, we kissed…a lot."

"And?" Isabela prodded.

"And he might have untied my trousers a little bit." confessed the mage before adding. "But that's as far as it went."

"But why?" asked the pirate before she turned to her with a knowing expression. "Oh no. You didn't tell him that you love him did you?"

Emily harrumphed. "Oh please, Isabela. Do I look like a sixteen year old virgin to you?"

Isabela chewed at her bottom lip in thought for a few minutes before shaking her head at her friend as if the mage were a hopeless case. "You didn't."

"Didn't what?" Emily asked guiltily.

"You told him that you wouldn't sleep with him unless it was going to become a relationship, didn't you?" Emily looked down at her boots and sighed. "Oh Hawke, why in the hell would you do something like that?"

"Okay, so I acted like an _eighteen_ year old virgin." She confessed. "But I went through that once before. I had sex with a guy without finding out how he really felt beforehand and he walked out the door afterward."

Isabela brushed the hair away from Emily's face and smiled at her sympathetically. "You are utterly hopeless. You know that don't you?"

"I know." Conceded the mage.

The pirate cupped Emily's chin between her fingertips. "Next time, try to remember that no man wants to hear about anything dealing with a relationship on the first date, sweetie. That's the best way to scare him off."

"So is there a way to fix it so things won't be totally awkward when I'm around him?"

Isabela's eyes narrowed. "You were both drunk right?" Emily nodded. "Then pretend like it never happened." the pirate shrugged. "He probably won't say anything and if he does just tell him that you don't remember any of it."

"You think that will work?"

The pirate smirked. "Always has for me."

Even though her head still felt like it might explode, Emily was beginning to feel much better. "Thanks, Izzy."

"Anytime, sweetie." The pirate told her before flashing another smirk. "By the way," she added pointing at the mage's shoulder. "You might want to cover that up before Fenris sees it." And without waiting for a reaction, Isabela sauntered away.

Emily looked down and noticed a large bluish yellow mark between the strap of her corset and her neck. "Oh shit." She mumbled. "Of all the-"

"Hawke," a low voice came from behind her. She sighed and closed her eyes.

"Maker's balls," she cursed under her breath, "why _now_?"

"Hawke," repeated the silver-haired elf as he moved around to her front. "Can I speak with you for a few minutes?"

She quickly placed her palm over the love bite that Alistair left, slid her fingers under the edge of her corset strap and began to scratch at her skin. "Sure, Fenris." She smiled, "but can it wait for just a bit? It's kind of embarrassing, but I've been wearing these clothes for a couple of days and this leather corset is itching me like mad. I just need a few minutes to freshen up and change my clothes."

The elf seemed to contemplate her words for a few moments before giving her an odd sort of smile. "Sure." He pointed his thumb toward the nearby hatch in the ceiling. "I'll just wait for you on the upper deck."

"Thanks." she managed as cheerfully and as sweetly as she could with such a terrible hangover.

Once she heard the hatchway close behind her friend, Emily quickly began rummaging through the bundle of clothes that Isabela had given to her. Since Emily had left all of hers behind in the cave the Dalish found her and Fenris in, the pirate offered some of her own things that she no longer wore.

_Oh, Isabela _she thought _don't you have anything in here that will cover this? _She sighed with exasperation, threw the bundle on her hammock and placed her hands on her hips.

"Is there anything I can help with, falon?"

The sound of Anion's voice made her jump. Forgetting about the mark on her skin, she placed her hand on chest and turned around. "Anion, you startled me. I thought I was alone down here."

He smiled. "I'm sorry Hawke. I did not mean to frighten you. You just seemed to be getting a bit frustrated." His eyes dropped to her shoulder and he smirked. "That is quite a nasty bruise you have there."

Emily quickly covered the spot. "Oh, yes…well…um" She couldn't come up with a single excuse as to how the mark got there.

"Don't worry, falon." He chuckled. "I am a healer, remember? Your secrets are safe with me. It does seem that someone got rather amorous though." Emily's face turned bright red which seemed to amuse the young elf even more. "There is no need to be embarrassed. It is nothing that I have not seen before. Would you like for me to heal it?"

She hadn't even thought about asking Anion to heal the mark, which was odd because Anders used to heal the love bites he left on her body quite often. "If you wouldn't mind, I would very much appreciate it."

He approached her and placed his warm hand on her bare shoulder. He never took his eyes from hers, but she could feel the tingling pulse of magic between his palm and her skin. A vivid memory of the last time Anders had done that very same thing came to her. It was almost six months before he died. They had taken the previous day off to spend some much needed alone time together. He had been acting odd for a couple of weeks, keeping late hours at his clinic and sometimes not coming home at all. Emily always knew that he was a dedicated healer, but all of the time they had been spending apart was beginning to put a strain on their relationship.

After several days of prodding and pleading, she finally talked him into spending a day away from his work. She awoke that morning to breakfast in bed which Anders had made himself. When they finished their meal, they made love before sharing a long hot bath. Then they went shopping and Emily found the perfect outfit for him-black and dark green with gold trim. After that, they ate an early supper at a tavern in Hightown before heading down to the docks to watch the ships roll into the harbor. They got back home before the sun set and made love again. After playing a couple of games of wicked grace and Anders losing royally to Emily, he suddenly got very quiet and serious.

"What's up?" she asked

"There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about for a while now," he began while pulling her to her feet from her stuffed armchair. "I've just been waiting for the right time."

She narrowed her green eyes curiously at him and smiled. "What is it?"

Anders pulled her hair free and slowly ran his fingers through it. "Dear Maker," he breathed "how did I ever get so lucky?"

Emily grinned mischievously, and removed the tie from his ponytail. She rubbed the scruff of his cheek with her fingertips before hooking a strand of his unbound blonde locks behind his left ear. "I was just wondering the same thing." she whispered. "Have I ever told you how happy you make me?"

The corners of his mouth curled into the sexy, crooked smirk that she loved so much. "Maybe once or twice." he replied. "But I would rather talk about how happy you make me." She saw him swallow and close his eyes as he took both of her hands into his. They began trembling as if he had a terrible chill. He then took several deep breaths before finally looking at her again. "Okay, here it goes." He released one of her hands, but his warm amber eyes never left hers for a second. Suddenly, she felt something slip over her finger and he dropped to one knee before her.

"I love you Emily. I have wished and hoped for many things in my life, but I never hoped to find someone like you. I always thought that having a woman like you love me was an unattainable dream. It was just way too big a wish for a man like me. And then when Justice came along…I thought that all chances of finding love in any capacity were lost. I never imagined that anyone would look past that. But you not only looked past it, you accepted it as being part of me. I know that I'm far from perfect and sometimes I go way off the deep end. And I know that I ask a lot of you, but I would like to ask just one more thing…Will you be my wife, Emily? If you say yes, I swear to you that I will spend the rest of my days loving no one but you and I will try my best to prove to you that your love for me hasn't been wasted."

Anders' words brought tears to her eyes as she pulled him up to her and kissed him. He lifted her from her feet and laid her gently down on the bed. Their lovemaking that night was the best she had ever remembered. The next morning, he got up early to head for the clinic and she rose from their bed to kiss him goodbye.

"Wow" he grinned as he scanned her naked body with his eyes. "I guess I got a bit overly amorous last night, huh?

Emily laughed. "I don't mind in the least."

"Maybe not," he countered. "But you are a noblewoman and it wouldn't be proper for you to go traipsing around Hightown covered in love bites like a common guttersnipe."

She reached up and wrapped her wrists around his neck. "The people around here's tongues already wag about the fact that I have a live-in boyfriend whose an apostate. What's one more thing for them to talk about?"

"Maybe," he replied with a grin, taking her left hand into his right. "But I'm doing my best to make an honest woman of you." He kissed the polished emerald of her engagement ring before putting his hands on the sides of her neck. He gazed into her eyes and she felt the tingling pulse of his magic as he began to heal the marks he had left on her. Several minutes later, he kissed her passionately and ran his fingers across her left inner thigh. "I think I'll leave that one." he whispered into her ear. "No one besides you and me will see it, but hopefully it will remind you of what's in store for you when I get home tonight."

"Is everything okay, falon?" Anion's voice pulled her out of her recollection.

She nodded. "Yes, Anion. Everything's fine."

"Well, you are all healed." he told her with a lopsided grin. That smile…it definitely reminded her of Anders.

"Thank you." she said with sincerity. She wasn't sure what she would have done if it wasn't for the young elf being there.

"You are most welcome." he bowed. "And now, I shall take my leave so you may have some privacy."

She watched him climb up the ladder to the upper deck and grabbed the few items that Isabela left that would fit both her body and personality. On her way to the cargo hold she grabbed a hairbrush, a water bucket, a bar of soap, a towel and a clean cloth. Once she shut the door behind her, Emily quickly undressed and began washing herself. The water was cold, but it was actually quite refreshing and helped to wake her up.

"Wow." She heard a voice say from between the crates. Emily almost fell over, but quickly recovered from her shock and covered herself with a towel. "I never expected to wake up to see that. I must admit, it's actually quite a pleasant surprise."

The mage just knew that her entire body was as red as her face must have been. "I'm sorry Alistair. Isabela told me that she had seen you this morning so I just assumed that you were up on the main deck."

"No need to apologize dear lady." He teased. "I rather like the view."

"Well," she shot back "as enamored as you are with the scenery, I suggest you avert your eyes, ser…unless you prefer that I do it for you.

"No, no." he laughed as he waved his hands in front of his chest. "There is no need for violence, especially against me. I'm quite harmless you know."

Emily knew better. Alistair Theirin was anything but harmless. "Harmless, huh?" she asked skeptically. "I somehow doubt that." She suddenly came to the realization that he seemed to be in a rather good mood, especially considering where they were going, not to mention the hangover he must have had. "Are you drunk?" she asked.

"Of course not." he assured her, turning his back. "I've only had two shots of rum for the hair of the mababri."

"So, just a bit tipsy, then?" she asked as she hurriedly finished washing herself.

"Sweetheart, if two shots of rum got me tipsy, I wouldn't have owed that dwarf so much money."

She chuckled. "Well, you are certainly quite chipper for someone who drank more than I did last night. Because I'm here to tell you, I woke up feeling like I was run down by a herd of wild brontos."

"Actually, I didn't drink as much as I usually do last night." Alistair confessed. "I guess it helped to have such good company."

Emily felt a fluttering in her stomach, a feeling she had many times over the previous evening, especially when Alistair smiled at her the way he did. "Is that so?" she asked as she pulled on her boots.

"I'm not sure how _you_ felt about it, considering your only company was me, but I certainly enjoyed it.

"Well," she jested. "I suppose you were tolerable…but just barely."

Alistair put his hand to his heart as if he were wounded. "Ouch. That really hurt. And here I was trying to pay you a compliment."

"You can turn around now, if you wish." Emily informed him as she completed brushing out her hair. "I'm all finished."

The prince came around to face her and the smile he was wearing dropped. His mouth stood agape as he stared at her. She had chosen to wear a cropped, black leather bodice with a very low-cut decollete neckline and cap sleeves that laced up the front, paired with a short black leather skirt modeled after the armored skirts of the Ferelden female Dalish and her knee-length black leather boots. Her long dark hair hung loosely down her back and she was just getting ready to tie it up when she noticed his expression.

"Is something wrong?" she asked as she began to gather the length of her locks in her left hand.

"Wait." he instructed.

Emily released her grip causing the bulk of her wavy tresses to fall down her chest across her left shoulder. She glanced down, trying to figure out what he wanted her to wait for. He crossed the room and stood in front of her, leaving only inches between them. "What is it?" she questioned with a nervous laugh. "Did I forget to buckle something?"

Alistair shook his head, reached out his hand and began running the length of her hair through his fingers. His hazel eyes stared into hers with such intensity that she forgot to breathe. "No," he finally replied and Emily could smell the fresh rum on his breath. "I was just wondering why you always tie your hair back."

She gulped. "It gets in the way during battle. Nothing worse than twirling your staff and getting your hair caught in it. Enemies tend to not take you seriously when you do things like that."

He snickered. "Well, I can see how that might be an issue." He moved a step closer and bent down, his mouth just inches away from her right ear. "But," he whispered "I don't see any enemies on this ship."

She felt Alistair's soft lips graze her lobe which caused her knees to buckle making her fall toward him. His hands caught her by the waist and he used them to pull her body even closer. She felt his hot breath against her skin as he nuzzled the side of her face with his scruffy cheek. "I just wanted to thank you for last night." he breathed. "I haven't allowed myself to get that close to anyone in a very long time."

He backed away and closed his eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry…I guess I forgot myself again. I just…being near you…" Alistair exhaled slowly. "Let me try that again." He grinned nervously. "I am sorry for my behavior last night. We were both intoxicated and things went a bit farther than either of us probably intended for them to. The only things I know about you are what you told me last night and the rumors I have heard. I don't even know if half of those are true. Even after what I said to you last night, I would still like to get to know you better, Hawke…as a friend. If that's okay with you."

Emily straightened her back and cleared her throat. She refused to let him see the disappointment she was feeling. In fact, she was beginning to feel a bit angry about the way his actions and words were telling her two different things. Taking Isabela's advice, Emily took a few steps away from him and flashed her best nonchalant smile. "I could always use another friend, Alistair. And don't worry about last night. I barely even remember anything after I lost control of my emotions." She bit her bottom lip. "In fact, as a friend, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't mention my little outburst to anyone. It's rather embarrassing actually."

Alistair's brow creased with an expression of wounded confusion. "Um…sure." he stammered. "I can do that."

"Thank you" she said with a flirtatious grin. "Now, if you don't mind, I promised Fenris that I would meet him up top and he's probably wondering where I am by now. Maybe you and I can talk later?"

"Yeah, sounds good." he agreed before adding, "by the way, you really should wear your hair like that more often…it suits you."

"I'll keep that in mind." She told him as she turned to walk from the room. She was almost to the door, when he said, "Hey, before you go…I was wondering something."

She looked at him from over her shoulder. "Yes?"

"I know that most of your friends call you Hawke." he observed. "But would it be okay if I call you Emily?"

The mage pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes as if she were considering his request. After a few moments, she shrugged. "Sure…if you want to."

The look in the prince's eyes nearly took her breath away when he said "Alright, I guess I'll talk to you later then…Emily."


	12. Chapter 12

Fenris paced between the two railings at the stern of the ship. Normally his behavior would have been caused by impatience because Hawke was making him wait so long, but for once he was happy that she was. He kept going over what he would say to her in his head, but no matter what words came to him, they just didn't seem to be the right ones.

He had finally decided that he was going to tell her how he felt when he approached her earlier, but she asked him to wait. He was encouraged by the fact that she wanted to freshen up and change her clothes, as if she were doing it for his benefit. He hoped that his behavior the night before gave her an inkling of his feelings for her.

He looked toward the opening leading to the lower deck for what had to be the twenty-fifth time, when he spotted her and what he saw left him completely breathless. Her clothes were quite a bit more revealing than what he was accustomed to seeing her wear, but they stirred in him a longing for her like he had never known. To top it all off, she was wearing her hair down, which was something that she never did. His memory flashed to the night they made love and the first time he had seen her dark brown locks flowing loosely around her shoulders.

She approached him with a bright smile. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting for so long, Fenris. It took me forever to find something I wanted to wear out of the clothes Isabela gave to me. She and I have _very_ different tastes, to say the least."

He gulped before returning her smile. "I understand, mal amica…you look…beautiful…by the way."

She seemed taken aback by his words. "Um…thank you."

Fenris glanced down at his feet. Maker, what if he was wrong? She seemed surprised by what he said. _This is a bad idea_ he thought. His brain began pulling him into two different directions. Was she confused by what he said because it was unusual for him to compliment her in that manner or was her bewilderment caused by the fact that she had no idea what his true feelings were? If she didn't share his affections, he would look like a complete fool when he revealed the truth to her.

"You wanted to talk to me about something?" she prodded

No, he just couldn't do it. He couldn't tell her. If she didn't feel the same way, it could potentially ruin their friendship and then he would lose her completely. He had to think of something to say.

"Yes." He cleared his throat to buy more time to come up with something. "I…I wanted to speak to you about your decision…about the Divine."

Hawke shook her head sadly. "Fenris, I told you last night that this is something I have to do."

"I know." The warrior agreed. "I…I was just wondering if you had a plan in place to get through the templars, seekers and guards to see her."

She sighed. "Not yet, I'm afraid. Now that you mention it though, it's probably a good idea for Alistair and me to try to come up with something at some point today."

Fenris felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of Hawke and the prince spending time alone together. He had to question why he and Isabela weren't to be included in their plans. In Kirkwall, Hawke never made preparations for an important mission without getting input from all of her companions. Typically she wouldn't even plan an unimportant enterprise without asking whomever would be involved for their opinions. He wondered if she was just trying to find an excuse to be alone with Alistair.

"Don't you think that this is something that concerns us _all_?" he questioned. He was trying to keep his annoyance from showing in his voice, but he was failing miserably.

She smiled apologetically. "You're right Fenris. I'm sorry. This is all just very stressful and I guess I wasn't thinking."

"That is…reasonable…I suppose." he concluded.

They stood there for several minutes in awkward silence before Hawke asked, "Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?"

There were a million things Fenris wanted to say to her, starting with an apology for being such a fool. "No." he lied and the look on her face told him that she knew he was being untruthful.

"Fenris," Hawke implored, "Please just tell me what's going on. You've been acting strangely since we boarded the ship last night."

"I am still just a bit out of sorts." he told her. "After being ill for so long, it is difficult to get things back to normal."

She shrugged. "Okay…just remember, if you do need to talk, I'm here for you."

He nodded. "Thank you, Hawke."

"Well, if that's it, I think I'm going to go down to the galley for some food." she proclaimed. "I know that I missed breakfast, but maybe I can talk the cook into scrounging up _something_ for me." She arched a brow. "Would you care to join me?"

Fenris shook his head. "No thank you. I'm not very hungry right now."

"Suit yourself." said Hawke as she circled to walk back to the middle of the ship. She only took two steps before she turned around to face him again. She swallowed. "Okay," she began "I have to know something that's been driving me absolutely mad wondering about for the past four years."

The warrior felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and for a moment he actually thought that he might vomit. "What is that?" he inquired as casually as he could manage. He assumed that she was going to ask him to give her the real reason he walked out on her that night or maybe why they never talked about it, but to his utter amazement she didn't ask either question.

"Why do you wear my hair tie around your wrist?" she queried. "I know that you've never wanted to talk about that night, but I just have to know. Is it some sort of trophy or…or your way of reminding me how it ended so I would stay away?"

Fenris never would have guessed that she would have believed that either of those things were true. He wanted to explain it to her, but he wasn't even sure of the answer himself. All he did know was that it was neither of the explanations that she had come up with. He stood there, staring into her brilliant green eyes, wanting so much to tell her what was in his heart but the words wouldn't come out. He saw her chest rise as she took a deep breath and began to study the boards below. Her emerald orbs began to glisten as she exhaled slowly. She turned her gaze back to him and the pained, disappointed expression she wore was almost more than he could bear.

"You know what?" she whispered as she shook her head. "Nevermind…I don't think I really want to know." She turned her back to him again and without so much as a glance in his direction she ended the conversation with, "I'll talk to you later" before she walked away.

Fenris wanted to reach out to her, go after her, but his feet were glued to the planks beneath them. Once again, his fear and stupid pride kept him from saying what he wanted her to hear.


	13. Chapter 13

After Emily left the cargo hold, Alistair stood there for several minutes wondering why he had behaved the way he did. His original intention was to apologize to her for his behavior and maybe explain his reasoning for turning her down. Although he accomplished one of those goals, it wasn't in the manner that he had planned. He just couldn't help himself. Seeing her naked body gave his system a bit of a shock, but it was nothing compared to how he felt when he turned around and saw her completely dressed and running a brush through her long hair. There was just something so vulnerable about her in that moment.

Then, when she let her hair fall to one side, it was simply more than he could take. He had to be near her, to touch her. It took every ounce of strength he had not to take her into his arms and taste her sweet lips again. He kept trying to tell himself that what he was feeling was a simple case of lust, but deep down he knew better. He felt it in his heart. The heart that he thought had been long dead began beating again the moment he kissed her. But how could he possibly feel anything close to what he was feeling about someone he had known for less than a day?

Alistair then thought about the fact that Emily said she didn't remember much about the night before. He didn't even think that she had been that intoxicated. Had it meant so little to her? Maybe he was reading more into what happened than what he should have. At the same time, the look in her eyes just before she left him that morning was unmistakable. He could tell that she was attempting to be aloof, but he saw through that façade rather easily. No, there was something there. He just wondered why she had lied to him.

Even though he had employed his usual method for curing a hangover, Alistair still had a headache and trying to figure everything out was making it worse. After one more drink of rum, he decided it was time to join the living and make his way to the upper deck.

When he emerged from the hatchway, he spotted Emily at the back of the ship talking to the silver-haired elf. The sight of them together made his stomach lurch. Maker help him, he was actually jealous. But why? Why would he be jealous of her talking to a friend…a male friend...a male friend who so obviously had very deep feelings for her?

_Get it together, Alistair _he told himself. _This isn't real. These feelings you're having aren't real. They can't be. _But no matter how much he tried to convince himself, one look in her direction was all it took for him to know the truth.

"And how are _you _feeling this morning?"

Alistair turned his head to see a smirking Isabela standing beside him. He glanced back at the dark-haired mage standing at the back of the ship for just a moment before answering the pirate. "I've felt better." he confessed.

"After everything you drank last night, I can see why."

The prince chuckled. "That was a slow night, trust me."

"So, what's with the long face then?" she pried. "Did you have some wild oats that needed to be sowed and couldn't find a field to plant them in?"

Alistair arched his brow. "Wow, that's one hell of an analogy."

"It's a talent." she shrugged. "So is that the problem?"

"Not exactly." he replied as his eyes drifted toward Emily again. "So what's the deal with those two anyway? I asked Emily last night, and the only answer I got was 'it's complicated'."

Isabela crossed her arms and smirked. "Emily, huh?"

The prince let out an exasperated breath. "Yeah…just answer the question…please."

"Okay, but you have to swear that you won't say a word about it to Hawke." Isabela insisted. "If you say anything, she'll know I told you. She already has plenty enough reasons to be mad at me and I don't want to give her anymore."

"You have my word." he promised.

She stole a peek at Emily before jerking her head toward the door to her quarters. "Why don't we go to my cabin? That way I don't have to worry about Hawke catching us talking about her."

Since Emily was standing right over the captain's quarters, Alistair was unsure how he and Isabela would be able to get inside without the mage noticing. By the time they got to the door, however, he realized that his fears were unfounded because Emily seemed to be in a deep conversation with her friend. The prince couldn't help but notice that she seemed upset about something, but Isabela grabbed him by his bicep and pulled him into her room before he had time to wonder about it too much.

The pirate shut the door behind her and pointed to a small round wooden table with two chairs pushed under its top. "Do you want a drink?" she asked as she pulled two glasses and a bottle of wine from a small cabinet in the corner.

"Do you have to ask?" he replied as he sat.

Isabela laughed and shook her head as she poured a glass for each of them. She then placed them both on the table and plunked the bottle down in the very center before taking a seat in the remaining chair. After emptying her glass and refilling it, she sat forward, placed her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together. "Let's see," the pirate began as she rested her chin on her knuckles. "I guess I should start by telling you a little bit about Fenris. He was a slave to a Tevinter magister named Danarius. You know those markings he has all over his skin?"

Alistair nodded. "Yes, I was kind of wondering about those."

"Those markings were put there by Danarius through some kind of ritual. They're made of pure lyrium that was embedded into his skin."

"Wait," the prince interrupted. "He has lyrium under his skin? For what purpose?"

"Because it gives him some very unique skills."

"Like what?"

The pirate lifted her brows. "Well for one thing, he has the ability to reach into a man's chest and stop his heart without leaving a hole…and before you ask, I don't know how he does it, but I've seen it first hand and it isn't pretty."

Alistair let out a low whistle. "Wow."

"Anyway, this ritual caused Fenris to lose all of his memories from before it happened so he had no clue who he was other than a magister's slave. After years of serving Danarius, Fenris ran away only to be chased all over Thedas by his master. When he came to Kirkwall, Hawke took him under her protection. In the beginning we all thought that they were going to kill each other. Fenris hated anything to do with magic and since Hawke is a mage, you can just imagine the kind of tension that caused. What made it even worse for her was that she was constantly breaking up arguments between Fenris and Anders."

"You mean her fiancée' that died?" he asked. "He was a mage?"

"Yes, Anders was a mage-a healer in fact." Isabela replied. "And he wasn't just a mage, he had made it his personal mission to be _the _champion of mage's rights."

It suddenly dawned on Alistair who Anders was. "He was the one who blew up the Chantry wasn't he?"

The pirate nodded morosely. "Yes, that was Anders."

"Did Emily have anything to do with that? Did she know what he had planned?"

"No, not that she was aware of anyhow" she answered. "She knew he was up to something, but he wouldn't tell her what it was. That was a really bad time for Hawke. Anders had all but disappeared from her life for those last five or six months. Even when he was there physically, he wasn't really there. She was devastated when he moved out, but for anyone who didn't know her like we did, they would have never realized it. I don't know how Hawke kept it all together, but she managed just like she always does."

"So, what about Fenris?"

"Well, for three years she and Anders went back and forth. You could tell that they cared about each other, but he kept pushing her away because of his…circumstances."

"What circumstances?" the prince asked with curiosity.

Isabela shook her head. "No, I won't tell you about that. I'm sure that sooner or later you'll find out even if Hawke doesn't tell you, but I won't be the one to reveal it. I don't want to tell you anything that might make you think badly of her, and I'm afraid that might. She needs the chance to explain all of that to you herself."

Alistair wondered what it was about Anders that could possibly upset him. For the moment, he had to put it out of his mind in order to hear the rest of the pirate's tale.

"As I was saying," she continued, "while Hawke was becoming frustrated with Anders' behavior, something began to change in her relationship with Fenris. They began to argue less and talk more. They still had their differences of course, and Fenris was as broody as ever, but you could tell that they were beginning to actually like each other. Even though Fenris still hated anything to do with magic, he seemed to look past her gift.

Then one afternoon, after three years of hearing nothing from his former master, a group of slave hunters led by Danarius's apprentice ambushed us and tried to take Fenris. After taking care of that group, Hawke and Fenris decided to go on the offensive and find Hadriana before she had a chance to redouble her efforts. The whole thing had obviously disturbed Fenris greatly. I think he had begun to believe that Danarius gave up on capturing him. After he killed Hadriana, Hawke tried to comfort him and he just annihilated her and then stormed out. He showed up at her house and was waiting for her when she got home. He told her it was to apologize, but he ended up blowing up at her again.

After a couple of days of avoiding her, he showed up at her house yet again. They ended up…well you know. Hawke told me that she let him know that she was a virgin before anything happened, and that he was actually very gentle about the whole thing. Then she made a virgin mistake…she told him that she loved him. She said when she woke up in the middle of the night, he was completely dressed and trying to get out the door."

"Ouch." whispered Alistair. "Did he say anything?"

The pirate wore a rueful expression when she replied, "Yeah, he told her that it was a mistake."

Alistair shook his head. "Oh dear Maker." Isabela's story almost made him want to cry, but more than anything it made him want to cold clock that stupid elf. He couldn't even imagine how what he did must have made her feel. "And she still considers that asshole a friend?"

She nodded with a sad smile and the prince noticed that her brown eyes were glistening. "That's just how Hawke is. I've never met anyone like her. Half of us betrayed her in one way or another, including me, but she never hesitated to forgive us and continue to care about us."

"I just don't understand that." admitted Alistair. "How could anyone look past something like that?"

The pirate sighed. "Hawke's been through a lot and she's lost a lot. She watched every member of her family die within just a few years. I think that may be why she holds onto her friends so tightly."

The only member of his family that Alistair ever met was his half-sister Goldanna and she had been a money grubbing bitch. He never even met his brother Cailan. He had seen the king when he was at Ostagar, but they never actually spoke. But to know your family and lose them all…he was starting to wonder why Emily didn't drink more.

"Anyway, back to my story," Isabela continued, "After he walked out on her, she was completely miserable. I had never seen her like that. In typical Hawke fashion, she tried to pretend that everything was normal, but we all knew there was something wrong and Fenris just disappeared for a good week, maybe more. That was probably a good thing because when I finally got the truth out of her, I would have most likely gutted him myself if he had been around.

So I did the next best thing…I told Anders. It worked too because it finally gave him the kick in the ass he needed to quit jerking her around and just go for it. And _he_ did it right. He told her that he loved her and he couldn't live without her for another moment. He moved in a few days later and spent the next three and a half years making her happier than I had ever seen her. They were really good for each other…at least for a while."

Isabela went silent and Alistar sat there trying to process all of the information he had just learned about Emily. He began to feel ashamed of himself for how he handled his own heartbreak. He had spent the past seven years wallowing in self-pity and hadn't gone through half of the things that Emily had experienced. Yet, she somehow seemed to manage to pick herself up and go on. That realization cemented his belief that he was not good enough for her and never could be, but the same time it made him care for her even more.

"And where did all of that leave Fenris?" the prince asked quietly.

"Fenris never apologized to Hawke for what he did." the pirate responded. "As far as I know, they never even talked about it. He just pretended like none of it ever happened, but he wasn't the same after that. You could see it written all over his face…hell you still can. He loves her. I think he has since that night, but he has never told her. And even though Hawke forgave him, I don't think she could ever be able to trust him with her heart again."

Before Alistair could say another word or even think about what the pirate told him, the door to Isabela's cabin burst open and the large deckhand that had found him in the hold the previous evening was standing before them. "Captain!" he shouted. "Cortes says that he needs you on deck right away. We are about to be overtaken by the mother of all storms."


	14. Chapter 14

Emily thought she knew what Fenris wanted when he asked to speak to her that morning. After she left Alistair and finished applying her makeup, she gave a lot of thought about what she would say to her old friend. After the way he had behaved the night before, she was almost sure that he wanted to talk about what happened between them four years earlier. Maybe he wanted to say even more than that.

The mage finally had to allow herself to look deep within her heart to sort out how she really felt about Fenris. She was still very physically attracted to him and she was closer to him than she was to anyone else. He was the only one who knew more about her than Isabela. When she was going through the grieving process after Anders died, Fenris was there for her and became her rock. He would do anything to protect her and keep her safe and she knew that if she asked, he would follow her into the Void itself. On the other hand he was stubborn, prone to violent and sudden mood swings, hated magic, and worst of all he was a complete coward when it came to dealing with his own emotions. Part of her really wanted to give him another chance but she was also afraid that he would get scared and run again. If he did, she wasn't sure that she would be able to forgive him a second time and even if she could, things would never be the same between them.

Then there was Alistair. The prince stirred emotions in her that she had never felt before. As much as she had loved and adored Anders, Emily had to admit that there was a chemistry between her and Alistair that she had never felt with anyone else. At the same time, the prince had let her know twice that he wasn't interested in anything more than friendship and maybe a good time. Emily was more than willing to be a friend to Alistair, but it wasn't in her to carry on a casual sexual relationship. She knew that it would always be more to her and it would eventually break her heart.

As she made her way up the ladder to exit onto the main deck she made a decision. She decided that if Fenris got up the nerve to finally apologize and explain himself, if he actually told her how he really felt, she would be willing to give him another chance.

Unfortunately, their conversation went pretty much how she expected it to. He chickened out once again and blamed his behavior on his previous illness. Maybe that was the truth, maybe she read more into it than what was really there. All she knew was that she was tired of playing games. She ended the conversation by asking him why he wore the memento of the night they shared around his wrist. She asked him if it was due to the harshest reasons she could come up with hoping to finally get him to open up, at least a little. He said absolutely nothing which made her seriously wonder if those _were_ his reasons.

As she walked away from him, Emily closed her heart to that chapter of her life forever. Even though it saddened her, she knew that there was no way that she could ever be with a man like Fenris. She needed so much more than he was capable of giving her. She hurried down the hatch and into the cargo room in order to be alone. As soon as she closed the door, she pressed her back against the wall, slid down to the floor and began to cry for the second time in less than a day.

_Anders,_ she thought as she closed her eyes, _I wish you were here with me love. I miss you. How am I ever going to make it without you? _

"Hawke?"

Emily heard her name as if it were an answer to her question. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder and opened her eyes to Anion down on one knee in front of her. She wiped the tears from her eyes with her fingertips. "Sorry," she whispered.

The young elf shook his head. "Why are you apologizing for crying, falon?"

Emily shrugged. "I don't know…my father always told me not to let anyone see me cry…that I had to be his big strong girl." She wasn't sure why she told Anion that. It wasn't something she had ever said to anyone.

"I cannot imagine a father telling his child such a thing." Anion said with pity. He sat down next to her and pulled his knees to his chest. "Although I am not the best judge of that sort of thing. I never knew my own father."

"Did he die when you were very young?" pried the older mage. She had been intrigued by his refusal to tell her about himself when they met. There was an air of mystery about him that had piqued her interest.

He shrugged. "I don't know but I doubt it. My mother did not really speak to me about him. She was only seventeen when I was conceived and the fact that he was human brought shame to my mother's family."

"So how did you end up with the Dalish in the Free Marches? Ghilya said something about you and your mother coming to them seeking shelter?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I was eleven when we left the alienage in Denerim."

"But why did you leave?" Emily pressed.

Anion studied his hands for a few moments before smiling at her. "Because of a kitten."

She arched a brow in surprise. "A kitten?"

He nodded with a wistful smile. "Yes, a kitten. I found her on the street one day, half-starved and looking for food. I snuck her into our apartment and gave her milk. My mother was furious at first, but ended up allowing me to keep her, probably because I had no real friends. She was as black as midnight…so that is what I decided to name her.

I only had her for a few weeks when I woke up one morning and found her missing. I searched every room and all around the outside of the building, but I could not find her anywhere. I then began looking in the streets in other parts of the alienage. I had almost given up, when I saw her lying near a puddle close to the gates leading into the city.

Her cries were becoming faint and when I picked her up, I could tell that she did not have very long to live. I cuddled her to my cheek and suddenly I was aware of what was wrong with her. Somehow, I just knew that she had been poisoned. I closed my eyes and concentrated…it was like an instinct. I felt a warm tingling move throughout my body and concentrate in my hands. The next thing I knew, Midnight was jumping from my arms and heading back to our apartment for some milk. I was in awe of what happened. You are a mage, you know of what I speak. The day you discover your gift by causing something to happen which you did not know you were capable of?"

The older mage nodded. "Yes, I remember that day. I think all mages do. I was five when it happened to me."

"You must be a very talented mage indeed to show your gift at such a young age. How did it happen?"

Emily remembered that day perfectly. Up until Anders died, it was the last day she ever shed a tear and it was the first time she took a human life. She had gotten upset because a local boy had taken her favorite doll and ripped its arms off. She tried to pull it away from him, but he pushed her down in the mud and continued his assault on her toy. A group of the boy's friends gathered around her in a circle. They laughed at her tears and called her horrible, nasty names. The more she cried, the worse the other children's verbal abuses became. As she sat there helpless in the muck, the children surrounding her closed in on her even more. Emily wasn't sure what they were planning, but they were all older and bigger than her. She was terrified and there was no one around to help her. She prayed to the Maker to reach down from the sky and engulf them all in flames so she could escape and because they deserved it for frightening her so. That's when it happened.

It started with a warm, tingling sensation flowing throughout her body. She closed her eyes and her mind suddenly cleared. The voices around her grew silent. In her head, she saw herself standing in a place that she had seen in her dreams so many times before. The scenery in those dreams often varied, but the feel was the same and she saw the one thing that always remained constant-the city of black towers and buildings on a faraway hill, unchanging and ever-present.

Suddenly, the tingling moved from her body and concentrated into her hands. Emily felt the urgent need to release the heat that was building in them. She opened her tear-filled eyes and flung her hands out, palms facing her tormenters. Large, angry red and orange flames engulfed the other children but did not singe a single hair on the young girl's head. She just sat there in the mire, watching the scene unfold before her of the other children screaming and running in all directions.

When the last flame had extinguished itself, the little girl with the long dark brown pigtails stood and looked at the blackened ground that surrounded her, her brilliant emerald-green eyes wide with amazement. A pile of ashes was all that remained of the doll that had been mutilated and tortured. That pile lay next to the charred corpse of the boy who had damaged the toy.

Before Emily knew what was happening, someone had scooped her up and was running with her over his shoulder. The girl recognized her father by the long metal staff that was strapped to his back. The little girl held on for dear life as he ran at full speed toward their home. He shouted to her mother that they had to pack everything they could as quickly as possible and that she was to only gather the bare necessities and only what could be carried. He said something about templars and a circle that Emily didn't understand.

Her father sat her down on the floor of their small house and ran to help her mother pack. The whole scene frightened and confused young Emily and she began to cry again. Her father saw her sobbing as he made his way to the kitchen. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her hard.

"Buck up girl!" he shouted. "No tears. A mage does not cry. Crying shows weakness and weakness makes you an easy target for the templars."

"Yes Papa." the girl sniffed as she wiped the tears from her cheeks with the backs of her small hands. She had heard her father speaking to her mother about templars before, but she never paid enough attention to know what they were. The only thing she did know was that her father hated them. She also didn't know what a mage was, but she was sure that he had just called her one.

He smiled at her and mussed the top of her hair, his voice filled with both pride and worry. "That's my big strong girl." He told her before running out the door. Minutes later, he reappeared, looking harried and much older than Emily had ever remembered. "Leandra, you carry Bethany and I'll take Carver. The road is clear, but we need to get out of here now, otherwise we may not get the chance to escape before the Chantry sends the templars." His stern tone softened a bit as he addressed his oldest daughter. "You may have to run to keep up, little one. Do you think you can do it?"

Emily raised her chin high in the air and stiffened her body with fists at her sides, not unlike a soldier answering her captain's call. Her voice rang out clear and brave. "Yes, Papa. I won't let you down, I promise." Whatever templars and mages were, they didn't matter to the child. The only thing that was important was earning the favor of the greatest man in the world..her father. Emily didn't ever want him to see her as weak. She wanted him to see her as perfect as she saw him. She would be his big strong girl and she would make him proud no matter what.

"You do not have to answer if you do not wish, falon." Anion informed her. "I have learned that the first use of their gift is not always a pleasant story for some mages."

Emily smiled apologetically. "Thank you, Anion. Maybe I'll tell you some other time…so you saved the kitten?"

The young elf sat a bit straighter as if he had forgotten that he was in the middle of telling a story and continued. "Yes, I saved Midnight and I ran home to feed her and to tell my mother what happened. What I did not know at the time was that someone had seen what I had done. An old elf named Voronis saw the entire thing. He was lame and unable to find work so he turned my name into the templars in exchange for coin."

"That's terrible." Emily exclaimed. "You were just a child."

"Desperate people will commit desperate acts, falon, especially within the alienage. Luckily though, my grandfather worked as a groundskeeper at the Chantry and overheard Voronis talking to the templars. He came straight home and told my mother that she had to take me away from the city. He then gave her all the coin he had and told her to use it to take a ship out of Ferelden. My mother secured passage for us on a privateering vessel bound for the Free Marches.

It wasn't until we had been on the ship for a few days that my mother discovered that the sailors expected more than coin in return for allowing us to sail with them. They locked me in the cargo hold and took turns with her. For days I listened to her screams and pleas for them to stop, but it just continued. When the ship docked at Greenvale, they threw both of us off the boat as if we were refuse."

Emily felt tears forming in her eyes again. It was no wonder why Anion hadn't wanted to tell her his story on their first meeting. She took hold of his right hand and brushed back a stray tendril of hair from his temple hooking it behind his ear. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to make him feel better, to comfort him.

He managed a sad smile before continuing. "My mother was bruised and scarred both physically and emotionally, but somehow she managed to get both of us safely into the forest. After two days we came across Ghilya's camp. My mother asked for the clan's protection, but the Keeper refused telling her that we could stay for the night and my mother's wounds would be healed, but we would have to leave the next day.

At the time I did not know the reason, but the next morning the Keeper told us that not only could we stay with the tribe, but that she would begin training me to use my gift immediately."

"Anion?" Emily whispered. "What happened to your mother?"

She saw a tear trickle down his cheek and he swallowed hard. "She discovered a few months after we began living among the Dalish that she was heavy with child from her experience on the ship…She died in childbirth along with my sister. I had not trained long enough in my gift to be able to save either of them, but Creators know that I tried."

The older mage took the young elf in her arms and embraced him tightly. She felt him weeping against her shoulder and stroked his dark blonde hair to comfort him. "I am so sorry that happened to you." No matter how much she tried, Emily couldn't stop her own tears from staining her cheeks. "And I'm sorry that I pushed you into telling me about it."

He shook his head against her shoulder. "Please do not apologize falon." He sat up and wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Believe it or not, it actually feels good to finally talk about it. I have never spoken of it to anyone before, not even Ghilya."

Emily took his face in her hands and smiled with shining emerald eyes. "I can't tell you how honored I feel that you told me. Thank you."

Anion returned her smile and once again she saw Anders' face flash before her eyes. She shook her head to drive the memories of her lost love away before she sat back against the wall again. More teardrops threatened to fall, but this time from her own sorrow. Dear Maker, would the pain of losing the only man she had ever truly loved ever subside? Would she ever be able to move on or go a day without thinking about him, without missing him?

Emily went to stand up when the ship lurched violently and threw her atop the young mage who was still sitting on the floor. As if by instinct his arms encircled her waist and he rolled her over to one side.

"Are you alright, falon?" he asked.

"What in Andraste's name was that?"

Before he could answer, the ship pitched again and the crates in the hold began to shift. The third time the ship rocked, a nearby wooden box came straight at them and Emily had to use an air spell to knock it away. The roaring of the sea outside was getting louder and she couldn't help but wonder what was going on outside. The brig began to cast about in earnest and Emily quickly jumped to her feet, pulling Anion up with her. She found it almost impossible to keep her balance as she opened the door, the young elf casting spells behind them to keep them from getting crushed.

Once they were in the main area of the lower deck, they found themselves being assaulted with torrents of water coming in from the open hatch above. Emily's first thought was that she had to close the hatchway and she began to make her way to the ladder when a very wet Alistair came into view as he jumped down into the opening. He shook his doused head and threw it back. His lips curled into a crooked boyish grin when he saw Emily. He ran his hand across the top of his wet blonde hair and looked up into the dark sky through the hole in the ceiling.

"I think we might be getting a little rain." he yelled.

"Really?" Emily quipped sardonically. "I thought maybe it was the ale fairies pouring their bounty down upon us."

"If only." laughed Alistair. "Are you okay?"

"Other than almost getting flattened by a dozen or so loose crates, we're fine."

He squinted due to all of the rain pouring into his face. "Well in that case," he told her. "Isabela says to get your asses on deck right now because we need all the help we can get."


	15. Chapter 15

Emily was trying to make it to the ladder to get to the upper deck, when another large wave hit the ship. A rush of water came through the open entrance and almost knocked her off her feet. Alistair grabbed the ladder to brace himself and got completely drenched from the cascade.

"Come on!" cried the prince, reaching out his hand.

Emily grabbed Anion's right hand with her left and pulled him behind her as she made her way to Alistair. Just as her fingers touched his, another tidal wave came down on them. Still holding one of the rungs, the prince lunged forward, clasped his hand over Emily's small wrist and jerked her backward into the flood. While the water was pouring over her, she held on to Anion's hand for dear life and once the stream had subsided, she pulled him toward her

"You first, son." Alistair yelled to the elf over the din of the storm. Without argument, Anion quickly scrambled up the steps.

Another large downpour of salt water overtook the two that remained and caused Emily's unbound hair to cover her face completely. She reached up with her left hand and pushed it out of her face only to see Alistair grinning at her.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look with your hair down?" he joked.

"Have I told you that you're not as cute as you think you are?" she shot back.

"No, I'm cuter." he replied as he helped her up the ladder.

When she reached the top, she laid down and held out her arm to help him up in case another wave came through. Mercifully, the next few crests were smaller and sent little water spilling over the main deck. Once Alistair had reached the top rung, Emily noticed that he was still grinning.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing" he shook his head. "I just thought that you might want to know that your face is a mess."

Emily rolled her eyes. Before she could say another word, Isabela interrupted from the helm. "Hey!" called the captain. "No time for foreplay right now. Get that hatch closed before any more water floods the bilge and she scuttles."

As Alistair and Emily struggled with the hatchway door, Isabela barked orders to her men. Sheets of rain continued to assault Emily's face and the waves washing over the deck were almost more than she could handle. Once the hatch was sealed, she and the prince began making their way to the captain's position.

"What do you need for us to do Isabela?" Emily asked once they were on the quarter-deck.

"The rigging to the main sail broke free." she yelled over all the noise. "If someone doesn't secure it, the weight of the sail in this wind is going to snap the mast. My men are having enough trouble getting the rest of her sails out of this gale."

"So what should I do?"

"I already sent Fenris up there, but it's too much for him to handle on his own. I need you to use magic or get up there and help or do something to straighten those lines."

Emily couldn't think of a single spell that would assist her in fulfilling the pirate's request so she headed for the ropes that would get her to the top of the main mast. Just when she put her hand out to grab a rung, a massive wave appeared off the right side of the ship.

"Heave to port men!" Isabela shouted as she jerked the wheel and the brig began to turn into the wind.

The swell bore down upon the tall ship and Emily felt Alistair push her against the ropes and press his body into her back. "Just hold on!" he cried. The next minute, the mage's breath was taken by the tide washing over her entire body. The force of the rush caused her hands to slip from the ropes and she felt the undercurrent pulling her down. Emily began to panic because she had no clue how to swim.

Just as she thought that she was lost to the abyss, she felt a strong arm encircle her waist and begin to pull her up. When the surge subsided and she could breathe again, Emily opened her eyes to discover that she had her arms and legs wrapped tightly around Alistair's body. He was panting as he pushed long dark brown strands of hair out of her face. He grabbed the back of her head and pushed her forehead to his.

"Holy shit." he breathed. "I thought I lost you there for a minute."

Emily let out a nervous laugh. "You almost did."

The prince shook his head and inhaled deeply. "Don't ever scare me like that again."

Even in the middle of a raging storm with the world going to hell all around them, Emily felt fluttering in her stomach and found herself completely lost in Alistair's hazel eyes. She was brought back to reality by the sound of a loud crack coming from above. She and Alistair looked up at the same time to see the main topmast begin to fall toward the stern of the ship. Before it could make its decent, Emily jumped from Alistair's arms and cast an air spell throwing it back away from the helm and the people below.

"I guess magic does have its uses at times." The mage heard a deep voice say from above. Fenris, who had been descending the ropes that the prince was still holding onto, jumped to the ground next to her. He glared at Alistair before addressing Emily directly. "Are you hurt mal amica?"

She shook her head. "No Fenris, I'm fine."

Even though Emily was glad to see that her friend was safe, she was still angry with him and didn't really want to be in his presence at that moment. Mercifully, Alistair interrupted their conversation.

"Hey," he observed with some confusion. "Did you notice that the rain stopped?"

Now that he had mentioned it, Emily became aware of the fact that not only had the rain stopped, but the waves had subsided almost completely and the dark clouds had begun to clear away. Isabela and Anion approached them from the left.

"That was the damndest thing I've ever seen." witnessed the captain. "That storm had us walled in from every side. I've never seen another like it before. I thought for sure we were done for, but as soon as I turned into that wave it began easing up…and now the wind has started blowing from the opposite direction."

They stood there in silence for a few minutes, trying to contemplate Isabela's words and what had just taken place, when Anion interrupted the quiet.

"Fenris," he said with concern. "Your hands."

When the warrior turned his palms up and peered down at them, Emily saw the healer's concern. They were raw and bleeding from the effort of working with the mainsail's wet rigging. "They are fine." He lied.

"They are not fine, Fenris." scolded Emily. "And you know it. Let Anion heal them."

The silver-haired elf rolled his eyes. "Very well." He groused.

Isabela chuckled at the older elf's discomfort for a moment before getting back to the matter at hand. "Okay, as for the ship, the main sail got ripped to shit when the topmast went down, but we have a fair wind from the north which will help since our mains are gone. We'll use that wind to our advantage while we can, but we need to make port as soon as possible for repairs."

"Any clue where we are?" Emily asked.

The captain glanced out over the horizon for a moment before answering the mage's question. "Well, without charts or a compass, it's hard to be sure. My best guess given how far we traveled west is that we're somewhere north of Bann Loren's lands...or what used to be Bann Loren's lands anyway."

"Won't it be dangerous for us to be seen in Ferelden though?" questioned Alistair.

"Not if the two of you can keep your heads down and stay out of trouble." replied the pirate.

"So we should stay on the ship?"

"No, you can't stay on the ship while the repairs are being made. The crew tends to get a little…cranky about that."

"So, what do you suggest then?" Emily inquired.

"Cloaks with hoods of course." Isabela responded as if the answer should have been obvious all along.

"But won't that make us seem _more_ suspicious." Alistair queried.

"Not if you know where to go." the pirate smirked. "I know every dive in every port in Ferelden. If you want to hide in plain sight, they're the best places to go. Everyone in those taverns is suspicious so you'll blend right in."

Emily didn't see where they had much choice since the ship had to be repaired. Part of her was actually grateful for the detour. She knew what awaited her in Val Royeaux and she didn't relish the thought of being on the wrong end of the executioner's axe.

Once Isabela had gone back to the helm, the mage walked to the starboard rail and watched the bright sun reflecting off the once again gentle waves. Her stomach lurched when she saw someone move up to stand beside her.

"Thank you," she whispered gratefully, her eyes still glued to the water "for saving my life."

Alistair circled to face her and took her hand into his. She turned to look at him and he smiled down at her before tucking her wet hair behind her ears. "You look like a drowned raccoon." he told her with the crooked boyish grin she had come to love so much.

"Oh, like you look so much better?" Emily snarked.

The prince's face became serious as he caressed her cheek with his thumb and gazed into her eyes. "I haven't been back to Ferelden since…well you know. I'm glad that you are going to be there with me." With that, he leaned down and rubbed her nose with his just before he lightly kissed its tip and headed for the hatchway, leaving Emily with a familiar fluttering in her stomach once again.


	16. Chapter 16

After Alistair climbed down below deck, he had to fight with himself not to go back up and kiss Emily. He had come so close a few minutes before, but managed to control himself and simply gave her a quick peck on the tip of her nose. He could only imagine what she thought about that. More than likely she thought he was being silly and childish the way Erin used to. Erin hated it when he was playful with her. When he would do things like kiss her nose or tease her, she would become angry and tell him to grow up.

On the other hand, Emily seemed to pick up on his banter right away and actually played along. Everything about her was perfect for him, a little too perfect actually. It was either all an act or she really was that wonderful. If it was an act then she would end up breaking his heart, if it was real then she was too good for him and he would end up breaking hers. No matter which explanation was the truth, he knew that he was going to have to be more careful around her before his emotions got the better of him.

The problem was that Alistair had no idea how he was going to do that. Every time he looked into her emerald-green eyes, every time she smiled at him, every time he was near her he fell harder. His conversation with Isabela didn't help matters any either. Emily's capacity to love and forgive others was beyond amazing to him.

The prince found his way to the galley and subsequently the wine stores. Because of the storm, most of the bottles had gotten through their secured racks and been broken, but Alistair managed to find one that was still intact. Not wanting to bother with finding a corkscrew, he pulled the stopper out with his teeth and spit it across the room before turning up the bottle and gulping down nearly half.

For the first time in seven years, Alistair wasn't trying to drink away his memories of Erin and what she did to him. He was trying to drink away his thoughts of Emily and how much he longed to be in her arms, to be loved by her.

_It's been a hell of a day._ _I'll stop drinking tomorrow, _he thought, but Alistair knew that he was lying to himself. Drinking was easier than thinking. It was easier than feeling.

* * *

Early the following morning, just after dawn, the lookout spotted land on the horizon. By midday, the brig was docked in the small seaside town of Wesburn. Isabela had managed to procure some dark hooded cloaks for the more conspicuous and well-known passengers of the Siren's Call before they left the ship and headed for the inn.

Once inside the tavern, they immediately settled down at a large table in the darkest corner of the place. One glance around the room told Emily that Isabela had been correct when she said that they wouldn't stand out among the bar's patrons. Even the Hanged Man had nothing on the One-Eyed Boatman when it came to shady characters.

After ordering a pint of ale and a meal, Isabela was the first one to speak. "Cortes ordered the supplies we need to repair the ship when we made port. Luckily, the sutler had a replacement for the mainsail on hand so that can be up and ready by this afternoon. The topmast, on the other hand, is going to be a bit more difficult. It seems that the earliest we will be able to leave is tomorrow evening and that's only if we can get the materials in time for my men to finish it."

"So we're stuck in this inn until the repairs are done?" Alistair asked. "_Greeaat_."

"I would think you would feel right at home here." quipped Fenris.

"Please don't start you two." Emily begged. "We're just going to have to try to make the best of this situation."

"That's only if the drunk doesn't clean us out of coin before tomorrow." the warrior muttered.

"What in the bloody hell is your problem?" demanded the prince.

"You" Fenris shot back. "You are my problem."

Alistair narrowed his hazel eyes. "What's wrong? Jealous, elf?"

"What could I possibly be jealous of?"

"Is there going to be a problem here gentlemen?" interrupted the barmaid as she passed out their ales. "Because it's a little too early in the day for me to be breaking up fights."

Emily shook her head. "No, there's no problem." She glared at each of the men, warning them to cease their argument.

Fenris scowled at Alistair before crossing his arms and glowering at the floor to his right. Alistair, on the other hand simply grinned sheepishly at Emily and mouthed an apologetic, "Sorry." She smiled back at him with a quiet, "Thank you." He shrugged and took a long drink of his ale. The serving girl seemed satisfied with the mage's resolution of the conflict and ambled back to the bar.

After quickly downing her first mug, Isabela set off to appropriate rooms for the five of them for the night. While she was gone, Alistair turned his attention to Anion.

"You don't talk much do you?" he queried.

The young elf took a sip of his ale. "I am not accustomed to being in the company of others."

"Weren't you living with a tribe of Dalish elves?" pried the prince. "The ones that I've met didn't like outsiders much but they seemed pretty social with each other."

Anion nodded. "Yes, each Dalish clan is basically a family and they treat each other as such. But I came to the tribe as an outsider. I lived among them for almost half my life, but other than the Keeper, the tribe never really accepted me."

Emily placed a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder. "I am sorry Anion. That must have been very difficult for you."

"There is no need to apologize, falon." he told her. "It really was not that much different from the alienage. Being half-human, I have never really been accepted among any of my elven brethren."

Fenris shifted in his chair and harrumphed loudly causing Alistair to roll his eyes before he returned to his conversation with the younger elf. "So your father was human?"

"Yes"

"And did you get your gift from him or your mother?" asked the prince.

"From my father." Anion replied.

"So did you ever think about going to live with him?" Alistair prodded. "I assume that he was an apostate if he met your mother in Denerim."

"I do not even know his name." the healer confessed. "I asked my mother many questions, but she refused to talk about him most of the time. The only things I remember her telling me were that they were about the same age, that he was quite charming and that he was captured by the templars shortly after I was conceived."

A strange, cold shiver crept up Emily's spine but she quickly dismissed it. "Maybe he's still at the Tower of Magi." she offered.

Alistair shook his head. "It's doubtful…after what happened with Uldred and everything." He glanced at Anion. "Sorry…it's just that I was there and saw what happened to the Tower. Not many mages survived that."

Before anything else could be said, Isabela plopped back down in her chair. "So what's going on? Is everybody making nice now?"

"As much as can be expected." Emily replied with a wary glance in Fenris's direction. He apparently noticed that the mage referred to him and exhaled loudly with exasperation. "I have lost my appetite. I wish to go to my room now."

Without argument, the pirate pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. "The rooms are already paid for. Talk to the bartender and he'll have one of the serving girls take you up."

Fenris gave her a curt nod and got up from the table. The rest of the party remained silent until the elf disappeared through the upstairs doorway. Isabela rolled her eyes. "I swear" she exclaimed. "He is _such _a child sometimes."

"So it's not just me who thinks that then?" Alistair piped up. "I didn't want to say anything Emily because I know he's a friend, but I'm getting a little tired of his whole 'I'm better than everyone else' attitude."

Emily shook her head. "It's not that simple Alistair. Fenris doesn't think he's better than anyone else, not really. He's just not that big on empathy. He's been through a lot and when he compares that to the tragedies of others he thinks that they have nothing to complain about."

"So he thinks that his suffering is greater than anyone else's" the prince noted before restating, "which causes him to believe he's better than everyone else."

Isabela lifted her mug and nodded. "Yeah, that pretty much sums it up."

"He does behave as if he is superior to the rest of us," added Anion, "with the exception of Hawke that is."

Emily decided to stay out of the conversation and just listen for a while. She hoped that if the rest of her friends aired their grievances about Fenris it would help them not be as apt to want to strangle him the next time they had to be in his presence.

"Okay," Alistair continued "I can kind of understand why he doesn't like me given my history. I mean let's face it, most people don't like me."

"I like you." the pirate captain piped up.

"As do I." agreed Anion.

The prince turned to Emily waiting for her to concur as well. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms when she didn't say anything right away. She took a drink from her mug and feigned a look of bewilderment. "What?" she asked. "Are you expecting me to say that I like you too?" She paused for a moment. "Well, I guess you did save my life" she sighed "and I guess you _are_ kind of cute…I'd say your mildly tolerable I suppose."

He leaned over and put his face just inches away from hers. She could smell the ale on his breath as he gazed into her eyes. His right hand reached out and she felt his fingers cup her chin. "Only _mildly_ tolerable?" he whispered with a crooked grin and Emily felt the butterflies churning in her stomach again. "Would a kiss help change your mind?"

"Possibly" she replied with a smirk. Her heart was beating so hard that she could hear it pounding in her ears as he moved his lips closer to hers. At the last second, Alistair turned her face and softly grazed her cheek with his lips. He allowed them to linger there for a few moments before pulling back to stare into her eyes once again.

"Well?" he posed "What do you think? Am I a little more tolerable now?"

"Okay," interrupted Isabela. "Either you two or going to have to stop that or I'm going to have to take young Anion here upstairs and see if I can teach him a thing or two."

The healer blushed brightly before hiding behind his mug. Alistair sat back in his chair and took a long drink of his own ale, a wide grin painted across his face. Emily had to take a few seconds to regain her composure enough to realize that the barmaid was serving their food.

Alistair pulled his chair closer to the table. "I haven't had a proper lamb and pea stew in seven years." he beamed before tucking into his meal. He quickly wolfed it down and asked the serving girl for another helping before Emily was even halfway finished with her dish. She had to admit that she had missed Ferelden cuisine herself and was happy to have a suitable fish and chips for once.

As they ate, they made small talk but kept their concentrations mainly on their food. When everyone was fully sated, they all ordered another ale and went back to their previous conversation.

"Back to the subject of the grumpy elf," Alistair began causing Emily to roll her eyes. She had been hoping that they were finished with that subject. "What?" he asked after seeing her gesture.

"Nothing." she replied, shaking her head. "Go on."

"As I was saying before," the prince continued. "I can understand why he may not like me, but what is his problem with our young friend here?"

"Fenris doesn't really care for mages." Emily answered.

Isabela smirked. "I think it has more to do with the fact that Anion reminds him of someone else."

Alistair's brow raised in confusion. "Who?"

Emily looked at Anion briefly before her face dropped. "Can we please change the subject?"

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Isabela mouth the word "Anders" to Alistair. Almost immediately, she felt his warm hand atop hers. The prince squeezed it gently. "I'm sorry." he whispered sympathetically. She thanked him with an appreciative smile.

"So…Emily?" began Alistair, trying to lighten the mood. "What's this I hear about you, an invasion of pirates and the Chantry?"

"Yes," Anion added. "I have heard that story as well. Please tell us what happened."

The mage crossed her arms and glowered at her raider friend. "Care to field that one Isabela?"

The four of them spent the rest of the afternoon and went well into the evening regaling each other with stories from their past adventures. Emily was surprised by the fact that even Anion had a few of his own to tell. At the close of the evening, as she laughed and talked with her companions, the mage couldn't help but remember all of the nights she spent at the Hanged Man doing the same thing.

She missed the absent friends who had become her family over the years. Emily could almost hear Varric telling his impossible tales, Aveline's haunting recollections of Ostagar, Sebastian's description of his days as a wild child, Fenris chronicling his years on the run, Merrill's incessant questions about everything and Anders… She could almost picture him sitting there, amber eyes twinkling as he told stories of his days with the Wardens and the practical jokes he and the others would play on each other and the Commander. From what Emily knew of her cousin, she wondered how she and Alistair ever got into a relationship at all. Anders always described her cousin as staunch and strict, in fact he told her many times that she was the complete opposite of Erin Amell in everything but bravery and talent.

"Hey, Hawke!" Isabela was snapping her fingers in front of the mage's face. "Are you coming?"

Emily furrowed her brows. "Coming where?"

"We're turning in for the night." replied the pirate jerking her head toward their two male companions waiting at the bar. "Are you coming upstairs or are you going to hang out down here for a while?"

The mage smiled. "No, I think I'm ready for bed."

Isabela grabbed Emily's arm and pulled her in close. "Good, it will give us a chance to talk in private…and maybe we can grab a few more drinks so I can get you drunk enough to go for it."

Emily rolled her eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you no Isabela?"

"Not with me." chuckled the pirate. "Princey's been giving you the 'look' all night."


	17. Chapter 17

Alistair was propping himself up with one forearm as he leaned against the bar next to Anion where they were waiting for Isabela and Emily. Toward the end of the evening, he became aware that Emily had grown very quiet and looked a bit sad so he suggested that it was time for things to draw to a close. The mage didn't even notice when he and the young elf left the table, but instead seemed lost and haunted by memories of her past. Alistair just wished there was something he could have done to make her feel better. He was also aware of the fact that of all the stories she and Isabela told, there was not one mention of Anders' name.

As he stood there watching Emily talk to the pirate, Alistair kept debating with himself on whether or not he should go to her room after they went upstairs. On one hand, he wanted to show up at her door, take her into his arms and spend the rest of the night making love to her while he professed his undying devotion over and over again. On the other hand, he knew that he was the last thing she needed in her life.

Emily apparently needed someone like Anders. Alistair didn't know much about the healer, but he had obviously been a good man to Emily. Although the man had obviously been a bit misguided toward the end of his life, from what the prince understood Anders had loved Emily and devoted his life to her. That's what Emily deserved, not some broken down drunken ex Grey Warden who didn't have a copper to his name, no skills to speak of and no hope of becoming anything more than a useless vagrant. On top of that, because of the taint in his blood, the chances of him being able to give her a child were almost nonexistent. No, Emily definitely was worthy of more than the exiled Bastard Prince of Ferelden could ever give her.

In the middle of berating himself and talking himself out of being with the mage, she looked up from her conversation with Isabela and smiled at him. The look in her eyes caused both his breath and the beating of his heart to quicken. How in the Maker's name was he going to ever resist temptation when she looked at him that way? Those damned eyes were almost more than he could handle.

When the two women finished their conversation, they joined Alistair and Anion at the bar and waited for the barmaid to take them upstairs to their rooms. Emily stood in front of Alistair close enough for him to smell the mixture of saltwater and her perfume. The curves of her body, her long muscular legs, her soft brown hair pulled back with a red ribbon-the effect of it all was enough to make it almost impossible to keep his hands to himself. Maker he wanted her.

As they made their way up the stairs, she walked a few steps ahead giving him a nice view of a pair of black small-clothes covering her perfect round ass. He quickly untucked the linen shirt he was wearing from his pants in order to cover the excitement she had caused in him.

When the serving girl showed them each to their rooms, Alistair entered his and stood by the door for a few minutes, debating on whether or not he should go to Emily's room. After nearly ten minutes passed, his heart and his body won the argument. He opened the door to the hallway and almost ran right into Isabela carrying three bottles of Antivan rum.

"Oh, hey Isabela." Alistair grinned and scratched the back of his head nervously. He hadn't expected to find anyone else roaming the hall.

"Hey there yourself." she smirked flirtatiously. "What are you up to, wandering around this corridor in the middle of the night? I thought you said you were tired?"

Alistair shrugged. "I guess I needed something a little stronger than ale to help me sleep."

"Is that so?" asked the pirate as she ran the index finger of her right hand down his chest.

He cleared his throat. "Yes. I was thinking maybe a bottle of wine…or some Antivan rum."

"Oh," simpered Isabela. "You mean like what's in these bottles I have right here in my hand?"

The prince licked his lips before slowly removing one of the bottles from her left hand and uncorking it. "Yeah, like this bottle right here." he replied with a crooked grin before taking a swig.

"And what are you going to give me for that bottle?" she queried as she moved closer to him.

Alistair looked down at the exotic beauty who was within just inches of him. He had to admit that she had a fantastic body and he knew from previous experience that she was very talented in bed. That added to the fact that he was already extremely excited and halfway intoxicated was making it very difficult to resist her obvious advances. He would have been lying to himself if he said he wasn't tempted, but something inside of him just wouldn't allow him to do it.

He handed the bottle back to her and gave her a friendly peck on the cheek. "Sorry, Isabela…Not that I'm not tempted…but I can't. I guess I'll have to go find my own rum."

She grinned smugly at him as she handed back the bottle. "I knew it" she proclaimed. "I wanted to make absolutely sure, but I just knew it."

"Knew what?" asked the prince curiously.

"I knew you had it bad for her."

He shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about Isabela."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, your highness…whatever you say." She shoved one of the other bottles in his other hand. "I promised her a bottle of rum and I think you should be the one to deliver it."

"I can't" Alistair refused pushing the second bottle back at the pirate.

"But why not? You obviously care about Hawke."

"Because I'm not good enough for her, Isabela." he replied. "Emily deserves someone better than me. She deserves someone like Anders."

The pirate chortled. "Do yourself a favor loverboy" she advised. "Before you go off thinking that Anders was some sort of bloody saint whose boots you aren't worthy to lick, give Hawke this bottle and get her to open up about him. I think you'll be surprised to find out how right you _are_ for each other."

Isabela gave the prince an encouraging grin and gestured to Emily's door with a jerk of her head. He sighed loudly before straightening his back and knocking on her door.

* * *

Fenris had spent the afternoon and evening going between pacing, exercising, and drinking. When the serving girl showed him to his room, he ordered three bottles of Aggregio to be brought to him and by the time he had finished downing them he was completely besotted. He kept waiting for Hawke to come to him, to ask him if he was okay, to yell at him…to do anything. Instead, she just ignored him. She hadn't done anything like that in over a year…not since Anders abandoned her.

At one point, the elf had talked himself into believing that something must have happened to Hawke. He went down the hallway and watched her and the rest of her companions talking and laughing over their pints at the same table which Fenris had left. They didn't even care that he wasn't there…Hawke didn't care.

Fenris was so angry that he wanted to punch someone. He found himself wishing that Alistair was there in front of him so he could take his frustrations out on the prince's face. Why was Hawke doing this to him? She found another man so he was going to be thrown to the wayside? What did Alistair have that he didn't have? Why would she choose that drunken bastard over him?

He laid down on the small bed that decorated the wall beneath the room's one window and curled into a ball. He had never felt so alone in his life, including the three years he was running from Danarius. When he was living in Kirkwall, he actually learned to be friendly with others. He even had a weekly game of wicked grace going with Varric at the Hanged Man. Why was he pushing everyone away now?

As he lay there, Fenris heard the din of people speaking in the hallway. He hurried to the door and listened carefully to see if he recognized any of the voices. The first one he made out was Alistair's voice. The drunk was definitely loud enough to wake the bloody dead. Then he heard Hawke saying goodnight to the others.

Fenris stood still against his door, waiting to hear her knock, but it didn't come. It was as if he wasn't even there. He recognized that her room was right next to his because he heard her next to his door. He then waited for the closing of the other doors before he cracked his open and peered down the corridor to make sure that no one else was around. He quietly crept to Hawke's room and rapped lightly on the wood.

"Come in Isabela." he heard her say from inside.

"Hawke?" he managed in a low voice.

She turned around and Fenris could see the disappointment on her face when she saw that it was him standing at the entrance. "What do you want Fenris?" she asked while crossing her arms.

He swallowed. "Hawke, I wanted to apologize for my beha-"

"Not this time Fenris." she cut him off. "I have listened to you apologize over and over again to me for being a complete ass and treating everyone around you like shit."

"But-"

"I'm not finished." she exclaimed raising her voice. "You always apologize to me and never to anyone else when those others are the ones you treat badly. I care about you Fenris and I don't ever want to lose you as a friend, but I am allowed to have other friends too. You cannot be rude to them just so you can have me all to yourself. It doesn't work that way."

The elf looked down at his feet and realized that what Hawke said was the truth. He was jealous and he was being unfair to both Hawke and the rest of her companions. He also realized that if he didn't change his behavior, he would end up losing her completely.

"You are right, mal amica." Fenris agreed. "I have treated your friends very badly and I owe them an apology.

"Yes, you do." Hawke agreed.

He took a deep breath. "I owe you an apology as well."

"For what?"

He looked down at his hands and then to the floor in front of Hawke's feet. Why was this so hard for him to say? Why couldn't he just tell her?

"For what Fenris?" she demanded.

He gulped and finally looked into her brilliant emerald-green eyes. He could tell that she was becoming impatient with him. He couldn't open his mouth. He couldn't move or utter a sound.

"Just go." Hawke commanded, turning her back on the elf. "I'm expecting company."

"Alistair?" he asked quietly, defeat ringing in his voice.

She still refused to face him. "Not that it's any of your business, but no, I'm expecting Isabela."

Fenris finally willed his feet to move toward her. He placed his hand on her shoulder and felt it tense beneath his touch. "Hawke?" She didn't respond, but chose to remain silent. Another deep breath. "Hawke, we have never discussed what happened between us four years ago."

She took a step forward before circling around to face him again and shaking her head. "You didn't want to talk about it."

He couldn't look her in the eyes, choosing to stare at the scrubbed wooden floor instead. "I felt like a fool." He admitted. "I thought it better if you hated me…I deserved no less." He took a step toward her and searched her eyes. "But it isn't better. That night…I remember your touch as if it were yesterday." Another step forward and he took her hands into his. "I should have asked your forgiveness long ago. I hope you can forgive me now."

Hawke looked down at their joined hands for a moment before turning her emerald eyes back to his. "I need to understand why you left, Fenris"

He shook his head. "I've thought about the answer a thousand times. The pain, the memories it brought up…it was too much…I was a coward" He felt tears forming in his eyes. "If I could go back, I would stay…tell you how I felt."

Hawke seemed to contemplate his words for a few moments and Fenris noticed that her own eyes were growing moist. "And what would you have said?" she whispered.

Fenris reached up and touched her cheek. "Nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you, Emily." He pressed his forehead against hers. "If there is a future to be had, I will walk into it gladly at your side.

He saw a teardrop run down her cheek just before she softly kissed his lips and he knew in that instant that his heart was about to be ripped in half. "Thank you." she said quietly.

"For what?" asked Fenris.

Hawke drew a ragged breath. "I've needed to hear you say that for the past four years…to finally give me closure." She gazed into his eyes and ran her fingers through his silver hair. "I love you Fenris and a part of my heart will always belong to you…but what happened between us, what we could have been, that was another lifetime and we can't go back there."

There was so much he wanted to say to her. He wanted to make her see how much he loved her, how much he needed her, but the expression on her face told him that it would do him no good. She had made up her mind that he was not the one she wanted before he even spoke a word.

Fenris placed his left hand over her right, turned his face and gently pressed his lips to her palm. "I want you to know, that no matter what happens, I will always be at your side…to the very end." he declared. "As long as I draw breath, I will protect you, mal amica. You will always be the most important person in my life."

Hawke took a step forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a warm hug and he responded by encircling her waist and squeezing her tightly against him. Even though Fenris did not hear the words from her that he had wanted, he still felt as if a tremendous burden had been lifted from his shoulders and for the very first time in his life, he finally felt free.


	18. Chapter 18

Isabela nearly tripped over Alistair lying in the hallway across from Emily's room the next morning. The pirate had to kick his leg several times to wake him up. When he finally came to, the first thing he saw was her frowning down at him disapprovingly.

"And what, may I ask, are _you_ doing out here?" she inquired.

He shrugged. "I guess I must have passed out."

"Well, I already knew that much. But why are you in the hall?"

"Seemed as good a place as any." he replied before taking a drink out of the half empty bottle he found sitting near his hand.

Isabela sighed with exasperation as she stooped down and snatched the rum from his hand. "Isn't it a little early in the morning to start drinking again?"

The prince pressed the back of his head against the wall. "I don't see why I shouldn't. I've got nothing better to do."

The pirate sat down on the floor next to him with an empathetic expression. "What happened?"

Alistair chuckled bitterly. "Nothing…absolutely nothing."

"Didn't you talk to Hawke?" Isabela inquired.

He shook his head. "No, I never got the chance to. I knocked on her door and when she didn't answer, I opened it just in time to see her kiss Fenris. So, I figured that I would just sit here and drink a little."

Isabela seemed confused. "That can't be right Alistair. There has to be more to it than that."

"I know what I saw, Captain." he frowned. "Apparently they decided to make up after all."

The pirate chewed her bottom lip in thought for a few minutes. "Before you give up completely, let me talk to Hawke. I'm sure that there's-"

"No," interrupted the prince. "It's probably better this way anyhow. She deserves better than me. I just wish that it would have been somebody besides…_him_." He glowered down the corridor at Fenris's door before snatching the bottle out of Isabela's hand. "I think I'll go back to my room now. Wake me up when the ship's ready to leave."

Isabela didn't argue with Alistair. She simply nodded her head and watched him as he struggled to his feet and staggered back to his room. Once he was inside, he threw himself down on the bed and closed his eyes. He couldn't believe that he had been such a fool. What made him ever think that a woman like Emily would want to be with a man like him?

* * *

Emily was awoken by the sound of her door crashing open. She barely had enough time to wipe the sleep from her eyes before Isabela plopped down on the bed beside her.

"Good morning sunshine." exclaimed the pirate with a knowing grin.

"Isabela?" the mage yawned. "What happened to you last night? I waited two hours for you to come back with the rum and you never showed."

The pirate crossed her arms. "That's because I sent someone else to bring the rum to you."

Emily was confused. "Well, all I know is that no one showed up with any." Isabela looked like she was about to burst from excitement. "So what's got you all up in arms this morning anyway?"

A grin broke out on the raider's face and she grabbed Emily by both biceps and shook her. "So are you going to tell me what happened? What did he say? Did he finally apologize? Did he stay here last night?" Isabela took a breath before her smile turned into an angry scowl. "Don't tell me he walked out on you again…if he did I'll gut him myself, lyrium fists or not."

"Slow down Izzy." the perplexed mage insisted. "It's too early in the morning and I'm too hung over to make sense of what you're saying. Honestly, I don't know what in the Maker's name you're talking about."

Isabela exhaled with aggravation. "I'm talking about you and Fenris of course."

The befuddled expression remained on Emily's face. "What about Fenris and me?"

"Okay, so I might have tried to give princey a push in the right direction last night." confessed the pirate. "And I gave him the rum to take to your room so you could spend some quality time together."

The mage's face dropped. "Oh Isabela, you didn't."

The pirate bit her lip guilty. "He saw you and Fenris kissing."

"Oh sweet Maker's mercy." Emily breathed. She felt as if she were going to cry.

"Look Hawke," Isabela posed, "I know you like Alistair and I know you don't want to hurt his feelings because he's been through so much already, but isn't it better for him to discover this now rather than later when it might hurt him even more."

Emily shook her head sadly and blinked back the drops that were threatening to spill onto her cheeks. "There's nothing to discover Isabela. I gave Fenris a short kiss to thank him for finally telling me the truth…for getting everything out in the open...just before I told him that there wasn't a chance for us anymore."

"I knew it" exclaimed Isabela as she covered her face with both of her hands. "I sodding knew it." She slid her fingers down to cover her mouth. "I knew that you had fallen head over heels for Alistair, I could see it plain as a Chantry Sister." Her rich brown eyes went wide. "Oh honey, you have to go tell Alistair. You have to tell him it was all a misunderstanding before he drinks himself into a coma."

"Do you think he would believe me?" asked the mage.

"I don't know" offered the pirate. "I already tried and he wouldn't listen to me."

Emily tried to think of what she should do. "Maybe…maybe we could go together. He might be more apt to listen to both of us."

Isabela shrugged. "It couldn't hurt."

Emily quickly threw on her skirt and top and hurried down the hall, not even bothering with her boots. She knocked on Alistair's door rather loudly to make sure he heard it.

"Go away!" came a muffled voice through the door.

"Alistair, it's Emily." she announced. "I need to speak to you."

"It's not a good time Hawke." the prince yelled back. She felt a stabbing pain in her gut when he called her by her surname.

"Please Alistair." she begged "it's important."

With her ear to the wooden door Emily heard Alistair mumbling something, but she couldn't make out what it was. When he opened it, the mage noticed that his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. "Come in." he muttered and immediately circled to get back to the bottle he left on the floor by the small bed.

"Alistair," Emily began but before she could explain things to the prince, she was interrupted by a tall red-haired man knocking on the wall outside the open door.

"What is it Lucas?" asked the vexated captain. "Can't this wait?"

He shook his head. "No Captain. There was a man on the docks with a pouch full of coins asking about hiring the ship to take him and his men to the Free Marches. He said to tell you that Flemeth sent him."

"Flemeth?" the three companions said in unison.

"Where is he now?" queried Isabela.

"I'm right here." a voice spoke out behind Lucas's back. The mysterious stranger skirted around the larger man with ease and when he pulled back his hood to reveal his face, Alistair's jaw dropped.

"Teagan?" asked a bewildered Alistair. "What in the bloody hell are you doing here?"


	19. Chapter 19

"Maker's breath." exclaimed a surprised Teagan as he threw his arms around the prince in a friendly hug. "It's good to see you Alistair, but what are you doing back in Ferelden?"

"It's a long story," explained Alistair "but the short version is we heard what was happening in Ferelden so we decided to go to Orlais to speak to the Divine about it. On our way we ran into a storm that damaged the ship so we ended up here."

Teagan sighed. "Well it's probably a good thing for that storm because going to see Her Holiness is a lost cause."

"Why do you say that?" the prince asked with confusion. "The Divine wouldn't let this stand if she knew."

"She does know," stated the arl "and she doesn't care. I myself took irrefutable evidence to her proving Queen Anora's betrayal to the Imperium. Her official position was that the Chantry had enough to deal with regarding the mages. If Ferelden's ruler sold her country out to Tevinter, then that is Ferelden's problem to deal with."

Alistair sunk back onto the bed behind him. "I can't believe that. The Chantry has abandoned Ferelden? How is that possible?"

Teagan shrugged. "I do not know, but apparently the Chantry sees the rebel mages as more of a threat than the magisters."

Emily hadn't realized that Fenris, along with Anion, had walked into the room until she heard the warrior's angry voice behind her. "Doesn't the Chantry have any clue what the magisters are capable of? Doesn't the Divine see that this is just the beginning?"

"Apparently not." replied Teagan. The nobleman looked around the room at all of the faces he did not recognize. A look of shock took over when he spied Emily. "What are you doing here Warden?" he sneered before pointing at her and addressing Alistair. "Why is she traveling with you? Don't you know that she is involved in all of this?"

Alistair stood and grabbed his uncle by the shoulders in order to calm him down. "Teagan, it's not what you think. This isn't Erin." The noble seemed perplexed by the prince's declaration. Alistair shook his head and pointed to Emily. "No, look." he directed.

Teagan tilted his head as he stared at the mage for several minutes. "Well, I suppose you would know that better than I, but if this isn't the Warden, who is she?"

"Teagan," the prince said with a slight air of formality, "may I present Emily Hawke."

If the noble had seemed surprised before, it was nothing compared to the expression he wore upon hearing Emily's name. "Hawke? You mean _the _Hawke? The Champion of Kirkwall? The one that started the mage rebellion?"

"I did not start that, My Lord." Emily explained. "The mage responsible for the events that led to that rebellion…he died shortly after the battle. I simply defended the mages of the city to prevent them from being slaughtered by a possessed lunatic."

Teagan shook his head and smiled with a sense of relief in his eyes. "Please do not misunderstand me milady. I hold no animosity toward you whatsoever. As a matter of fact, finding out that you are on our side in this gives me hope. Your talent and leadership abilities are just what we need if we are to have any chance of victory against the Imperium"

Emily was taken aback by the nobleman's confidence in her. "I am just one woman, My Lord. I don't see how my involvement could be of that much help."

The arl chuckled. "You are not just _any_ woman, milady. You defeated the Arishok in single combat, driving the Qunari out of the city. You convinced the templars of Kirkwall to turn against their own Knight-Commander to fight at your side. Your name alone strikes fear into the hearts of your enemies and inspires the downtrodden."

Emily felt her face growing hot with embarrassment. She couldn't understand how anyone could see her as a hero. She had always done what she felt was right, but that didn't mean that she was better than anyone else. "Your words humble me, My Lord. I…I don't know what to say."

"So you will help us then?"

Emily bowed her head. "Of course, My Lord, however I can."

"Teagan," Alistair interrupted, "what exactly happened? Why didn't the nobles band together and fight this? I know that Eamon would never stand for this treachery."

The arl grimaced with sadness. "My brother is dead…along with his family. Anora had them executed for being traitors to the crown."

"Holy Maker." breathed the prince. "Eamon? A traitor?"

"He had been suspicious of the queen for quite some time." Teagan began. "It all started about two years ago. The first thing the queen did was give the vacant seat of the Teyrnir of Gwaren to a foreigner to rule, stating that she felt that he had some fresh new ideas for that land. Next came the Arling of Amaranthine."

"But wasn't that given to the Grey Wardens?" Emily broke in and she saw Alistair giving her a puzzled expression out of the corner of her eye.

"Yes," the nobleman replied. "But the Warden Commander was named arlessa of Amaranthine and she relinquished rule to yet another foreigner. After that, it seemed that more and more nobles and their families were either dying, disappearing or just resigning from their posts as rulers of their lands, and each time that happened Anora assigned an outsider to rule.

Eamon knew that the queen was up to something, but had no concrete proof to back up his suspicions. About five months ago, he decided to hire an elven spy to pose as a servant to try to find the evidence he was looking for." Teagan pulled a yellowed scroll out of a pouch at his belt and handed it to Alistair. "That is what the spy found."

The prince unrolled the parchment and skimmed over it before shaking his head in disgust and handing it to Emily. It was a treaty signed by Anora promising the Tevinter Imperium complete control of the provinces of Ferelden within three years in exchange for all of the coin and manpower the country required for rebuilding and repairing the damages caused by the Blight. Anora was to maintain her title of queen, but her vote in any matter of state would not count above any other and she would surrender her right of veto. Before Emily handed the treaty to Isabela to examine, she caught sight of one of the names of the treaty's two witnesses…Erin Amell.

"But why would Anora do this?" asked a bewildered Alistair. "She had me exiled because I threatened her rule. There is no way she would just give up power."

Teagan shook his head. "I do not know Alistair. No one does. Some people have speculated that she may be under the influence of blood mages, but I do not think it is as simple as that."

"So how did you end up with the treaty?" the prince inquired.

"After it came into Eamon's hands, he sent it to me by special courier, along with a note instructing me to take it before the Divine. In the meantime, he confronted Anora about his discovery and she had him arrested along with Isolde. They even arrested Connor at the Tower of Magi and took him back to Denerim for the trial.

"Trial?" queried Alistair.

"That is what it was called anyway." the arl spat bitterly. "It was a farce. A Landsmeet was called, attended only by the newly appointed foreigners, to serve as jury in the proceedings. It lasted only fifteen minutes and Eamon wasn't even allowed to speak on his own behalf. He was found guilty of treason and sentenced to be executed that very same afternoon. Then to add insult to injury, Connor and Isolde were both sentenced to death as well for being accessories."

Alistair gulped and Emily could see that he was taking Eamon's death hard. She went to his side and squeezed his hand. She half expected him to pull away, but he simply gave her a grateful, but sad smile.

"I was already on my way to Orlais when I learned what happened to my brother" Teagan continued. "By the time I got back to Redcliffe, the lands had already been taken over and I learned that I had a bounty on my head. I was able to procure some of my best soldiers to stay with me in order to incite a rebellion and we have managed to pick up soldiers from other parts of as well, but there are still too few of us I am afraid."

Isabela, who had remained silent since the arl revealed his identity, decided to pose a question of her own. "Lucas mentioned Flemeth before. What does she have to do with all of this?"

Teagan's brow furrowed. "Yes, that was rather odd. My men and I went underground in the Frostbacks soon after I made my discovery at Redcliffe. We have tried to keep our base of operations moving so we never stay in one place for very long and a few weeks ago we settled into a system of caves in the northwestern part of the range.

All of a sudden, this strange drawn-up old woman comes into camp in the middle of the night and asks to speak to me personally. My men search her for weapons and she carried no staff so they assumed she was harmless. Once she was brought before me, she revealed her true nature and I recognized her as the Witch of the Wilds. My men of course, began attacking her right away, and she mowed them down as if they were flies buzzing about her. Thankfully, she did not kill them. She merely incapacitated them until she and I had a chance to talk.

She told me that there would be a ship named the _Siren's Call_ docked in Wesburn on this day and that I should take my best men and seek passage on that ship. She didn't tell me where we would be going or anything of the like, however, just that I should secure a place on the vessel."

"Wait," Emily observed. "Did she tell you to secure passage or to seek passage…her exact words?"

The arl became thoughtful for a few moments before answering the mage. "Seek" he nodded, "she definitely said seek."

Isabela smirked. "So you're thinking that he wasn't supposed to board the ship at all, just find us."

"Exactly" Emily nodded and the room went silent for several minutes. Finally Alistair broke the tension. "Is there anything else you can tell us Teagan?" the prince asked.

The arl shook his head. "Not that I can think of."

"So what do we do now?" Isabela questioned. "If we aren't going to Orlais and Teagan isn't going to be hiring us, what's next?"

Emily opened her mouth to tell her friend that she didn't have any idea, when she was interrupted by a young man running up the stairs shouting.

"My Lord" he cried addressing the arl "you must come quickly. Someone has set fire to the forest outside of town."

"Maker's breath." Teagan exclaimed. "My men were waiting for me in that forest."

Emily ran to her room and hurriedly donned her boots before grabbing her staff and running out the door after Teagan and Isabela. Alistair and the other two men weren't far behind her. They raced all the way to the woods just outside of the village only to discover there was no fire. There was however, an old woman dressed in red and black leather.


	20. Chapter 20

"Aah, and so we meet again." said the witch. "The young man who took my life and the young woman who saved it."

You look…different than I remember you." Alistair observed.

"As do you, dear boy." Flemeth acknowledged. "It seems that the white king's heart was turned to black by the queen whose job it was to protect him, and now they find themselves on opposite sides of the board. Or perhaps he was merely unaware that they were always on opposite sides"

"So what are you saying?" questioned Emily. "We are all just pawns on a giant…chessboard?"

"It is a game that has been played time and again, for many ages," the old woman replied, "but you, dear girl, are much more than a simple pawn."

"What do you want from us witch?" Fenris asked impatiently.

She turned her gaze to the elf. "Yes, I remember you. The slave who traded one master for another. You were bound to your first master by chains forged from fear. You traded him for another but the shackles that bind you are of your own making, fashioned from something even more powerful."

The warrior was rendered speechless by the sage woman's observation so she returned her attention to Alistair. "Once again you find yourself in need of an army to defeat a seemingly impossible enemy, but this time the solution is not so simple. There are no treaties to call upon to aid you in your endeavors." Her eyes moved from the prince to Emily and then back again. "You must both rely on the alliances you have formed in the past and gather those forces throughout not only this land, but others as well. Those bonds are the only hope you have to defeat your enemy."

Emily was getting tired of the witch's riddles. "What are you talking about? What alliances?"

A knowing smirk spread on Flemeth's face. Her yellow eyes holding truths and insight that only she could see. "That is something you must figure out on your own dear girl." A heavy mist suddenly started to settle at their feet and began to rise. "You have all of the information you need to secure victory in this endeavor. By the end, you will find that there is more at stake here than you can possibly realize." As the fog ascended, it thickened making it difficult for Emily to see anything. The witch's voice seemed to echo from all around them as she spoke her final words. "Know this, autumn's dying breath will determine your triumph or your annihilation. You may hear of me as a whisper in the shadows, but you shall not see me again. The rest is up to you."

Within seconds, the murkiness that surrounded them cleared away and Flemeth had disappeared, leaving them all in stunned silence.

"Well that was certainly helpful." Alistair snarked while rolling his eyes.

"Autumn's dying breath?" queried Isabela. "What in the hell does that mean."

"I believe Asha' belannar was referring to eve of Satinalia which marks winter's beginning." Anion offered.

"That only gives us six months to gather all the forces we can." Emily observed. "And I don't have a clue where to start. I'm not sure where we should even go to find them."

"Whatever you and Alistair decide milady, know that my men and I are at your disposal." Teagan offered.

"Thank you, My Lord. We appreciate any aid you are willing to give." the mage told him. "In fact, I think that you should be in charge of the rebel forces here in Ferelden." She turned to the prince. "What do you think Alistair?"

He grinned. "I think that is an excellent idea."

"It would be my honor." The arl said with a bow. "And what are your orders, milady?"

Emily thought for a long moment before answering her newly appointed general. "The first thing you should do is begin recruiting soldiers. I find it hard to believe that there are many in Ferelden who wish to fall under Tevinter rule. Get as many seasoned men and women as you can of course, but do not hesitate to take on green recruits. The experienced soldiers can train those without experience who wish to fight. Just be careful about it."

"Yes, milady." Teagan assented. "Is there anything else you wish of me?"

"Well, you can start by calling me Hawke just as the rest of my friends do." she informed him. The only other thing I need, is for you to make sure that you and your men are ready by Satinalia. Unless you hear from Alistair or I otherwise, we will march on the city of Denerim on the last day of autumn. I will leave it to your discretion as to how you and your troops make it to the city without drawing attention to yourselves.

The arl clapped a fist to his heart. "As you wish, mi…Hawke." he acknowledged. "And please…call me Teagan. Now, if I may be so bold, there is a desolated area of the Northern Hills outside of Denerim that I believe would be an ideal place to assemble our army on the eve of battle."

"Unless Hawke disagrees, I think we should trust your judgment Teagan." Alistair concurred.

Emily nodded her agreement, but felt a slight sting due to the fact that the prince used her surname again. Somehow, she had to get him alone so she could explain everything to him. At that moment, however, there were more pressing issues to attend to.

"So where do we go from here?" the prince posed.

"I guess maybe we could start at the Tower of Magi. Since we will be fighting magisters, it would probably help to have as many mages on our side as we can get."

Teagan shook his head, "I am sorry to inform you of this Hawke, but the Tower of Magi is gone. Kinloch Hold was destroyed over two months ago. The templars there were all either killed or went into hiding and the mages were all granted autonomy in exchange for siding with the magisters."

That certainly wasn't news that Emily wanted to hear. "So the Tevinters have every mage in Ferelden on their side?"

"Not every mage, no." responded the arl. "Some refused to join the Imperium. A few were executed because of it, but there were some who managed to escape and have gone underground somewhere in Ferelden. I am sorry to say that I do not know where, however."

"Isn't that kind of like trying to find a needle in a haystack?" challenged Isabela.

"Possibly" replied the nobleman. "But I believe Alistair knows the one leading that group of gifted. Maybe he would know where to find her."

The prince's brow creased. "Who is it Teagan?"

"It is Senior Enchanter Wynne." the arl answered.

"Wynne?" Alistair exclaimed with mild surprise. He chuckled to himself. "I should have known."

"So do you have any idea where she and the others might be?" Emily questioned the prince.

Alistair crossed his arms and arched his brow. A sudden grin told Emily that he knew where to find the mages. "Haven." he muttered. "It has to be."

Emily had never heard of the place. "Where?"

"It's a small village in the Frostbacks, south of Orzammar." the prince explained. "We discovered it while hunting for the Urn of Sacred Ashes. The villagers had kidnapped the scholar who had been researching the Urn and killed all the soldiers that had gone into the village looking for him. When we arrived and found out what was going on there, the villagers attacked us. We ended up killing everyone in the village to defend ourselves. It was left completely abandoned."

"But doesn't that mean that the Warden Commander will know this place as well?" Fenris asked.

"That's the thing" reasoned Alistair "she doesn't. Haven is not marked on any normal map. As far as I know, other than any that were in the village itself, there are only two maps in existence that point to its location. When we were looking for Brother Genetivi in Denerim, we found them and Erin gave them to Wynne for safe keeping. Wynne kept one of them but she gave the other to Leliana."

Emily didn't see how that fact helped them at all. "Leliana? You mean the Seeker? Do you have some plan for getting it from her?"

"We don't need to because Leliana no longer has it."

"I don't understand." confessed the mage. "What happened to it?"

"I'm getting there," the prince told her. "You see, Wynne gave the map to Leliana in secret because Leliana wanted to give it to the Chantry. She felt that all of Thedas should be able to make pilgrimages to the temple that held the Urn. Erin, however, did not agree with that sentiment. In fact, she killed Brother Genetivi when he told her of his plans to tell the world of his discovery.

When we were camped outside of the ruins of Lothering on our way to find the Dalish in the Brecilian Forest, Erin found out that Leliana had the map. She knew what Leliana wanted to do with it and demanded that she throw it in the fire. Well, as you may already know, Leliana was once a bard and can be very clever at times. She switched Genetivi's map for a different one, tricking Erin into believing that the real map had been destroyed."

"So how do you know all of this?" queried Teagan.

"I caught Leliana sneaking out of camp in the middle of the night and I followed her to what was left of Lothering. Then, she caught me. I guess it was possible that she knew I was there the entire time, but she never said anything. Anyway, she told me that she was afraid that Erin would find out that she still had the map so she decided to bury it so she would be able to come back for it later."

"But wasn't she afraid that you would tell the warden?" asked Isabela.

"That was before Erin and I got…close." answered the prince. "Leliana swore me to secrecy and I even helped her bury it."

"And what makes you think that it is still there?" questioned Fenris, his face clearly showing his doubt as to how Alistair's story would help them. "Wouldn't Leliana simply have gone back and retrieved it after the Blight ended?"

"Possibly," Alistair admitted, "but I haven't heard anything about Pilgrimages to the temple. In fact I've never heard another word about the Urn since then outside of legends. I would think that if she had given it to anyone someone would have heard something about at least an investigation into her claims."

"He is correct." Teagan agreed. "Since my brother's recovery, I have heard nothing of the Urn."

"I have a question." Isabela spoke up. "If the warden made Leliana get rid of her map, why was the mage allowed to keep the other?"

"Wynne told Erin that she wanted the map to put in the vault under the Tower for safe-keeping, just in case the information was ever needed. Erin agreed."

"I am sorry to interrupt, but I must be going soon." Teagan interjected. "But before I do, I wanted to inform you that I shall be sending a map to the location I spoke of earlier by messenger from my camp. I also would caution you against leaving your ship in any Ferelden port. The magisters have given the guards the authority to search and seize anything they want whenever they want. You would be better off docking in Jader to the west and making the longer journey. Jader is Orlesian territory, therefore the magisters have no authority there."

"Thank you for the advice Teagan." Alistair said offering his uncle his hand. The older man clutched the prince's wrist and gave it a hearty shake.

"We will meet again soon." Teagan announced to the rest. "Fair winds, my friends."

Once the nobleman was gone, Emily turned her attention to Alistair. "So I guess this means that we're going to Lothering?"

"Kind of seems that way, doesn't it?" he answered.

Emily hadn't seen her former village since she left Ferelden eight years before. She always heard that any place destroyed by the Blight could take decades to recover if ever. She wondered how she would handle dealing with the memories of her past when they would be so readily staring her in the face.

"Is something wrong?" Alistair asked noticing the pained expression on the mage's face.

"It's been a long time since I was home." she responded with haunted eyes. "I wonder if my father's grave marker is still standing."


	21. Chapter 21

When they got back to the village, the shore party was informed that the _Siren's Call_ would be ready to set sail by early evening at the very latest. Upon hearing the news, Emily decided to don her hooded cloak and take Isabela shopping with her in order to find some new clothes. After that, the mage took a much needed hot bath. She wanted to make sure she looked her best when she talked to Alistair so she spent almost an hour primping to make sure she looked just right.

Emily chose to wear a black leather halter top that laced up the front and reached quarter way down her hips at the bottom, a pair of tight black leather pants that laced up the sides, and her knee-length black leather boots. She knew that Alistair liked her hair down, but her bangs tended to constantly get in her way when she didn't tie her tresses back so she decided to compromise. She fashioned her fringe into an Orlesian braid and tucked it behind her left ear leaving the rest of her wavy dark brown locks flowing loosely down her back. She then applied her make-up and took a long look in the mirror. After making a few minor adjustments here and there and deciding that she looked the best that she could, she made her way to Alistair's room.

When Emily knocked on the prince's door, she received no answer leaving her to wonder if he had gotten drunk and passed out again. She checked the knob and discovered that the door was unlocked so she slowly pushed it open. Alistair was bent over a desk that was wedged between the bed and the wall pouring over papers that were spread out across the wooden surface.

"Alistair?" she spoke softly.

He didn't look in her direction but continued studying the parchments. "I'm a little busy Hawke. Is there something I can do for you?"

She approached the desk and stood right beside him. "What are you working on? Maybe I can help."

"I've been trying to figure out the best route for us to take from Jader to Lothering." he replied.

Emily bent over and rested her forearms on the desk. "Any luck?"

She could tell that the prince was making a great effort not to let his eyes stray too far in her direction. "Nothing I'm comfortable enough with, no."

Emily moved some of the papers from the left side of the desk to the right and plopped down beside the map Alistair was studying. She saw him glance at her legs before shading his left eye with his hand.

"Well, just show me what you have so far then." She requested.

The prince's hand dropped back down on the wood and he peered up at her. As soon as his hazel eyes locked with hers, Emily heard a quiet gasp escape his lips. She smiled coyly "What?" she asked.

"I…um…" stammered Alistair before tearing his eyes away and turning his attention back to the parchment on the desk. He paused for a long moment before pointing to Jader's location on his map. "Okay, so Jader is up here," he moved his index finger down to another point on the map, "and Lothering is down here." As he continued, he traced his finger along the paths to show each route. "Now the fastest route would be to travel south to the Imperial Highway, then head east toward the northern shore of Lake Calenhad, then use the highway to follow the lake around until it reaches Lothering."

"Okay, so what's wrong with that plan?" Emily questioned.

"I'm just not sure that it would be a good idea to travel on the highway…too easy to be found that way."

The mage crossed her arms. "You have a point. What else do you have?"

"We could travel south and follow the lake around to Redcliffe, but we still have the same problem with the highway."

"I'm not sure that traveling that close to Redcliffe is a good idea anyway." Emily added.

"Yes, you're probably right about that." agreed Alistair. "The only other option I see is to follow the foot of the Frostback Mountains south, head east into the Wilds, then north through Ostagar. But that would add at least a week and a half onto our journey, not to mention the fact that we would be trekking through the Wilds and hordes of barbarians."

The mage pursed her lips, trying to decide if she should tell him what she was thinking right then or wait until later. In the end, she chose to go ahead and speak her mind. "I've actually been thinking about that since we spoke to Flemeth" she began slowly. "And I have an idea that I'm not entirely sure that you're going to like."

"Uh-oh" grimaced the prince. He leaned back in his chair, placed his forearms across its arms and clasped his hands together. With his obvious attraction to her forgotten for the moment, he regarded Emily with trepid curiosity. "What is it?"

"Well," she continued "I was thinking that since we need all of the help we can get and since the Wilders hold no love for the Imperium…maybe we can talk them into fighting on our side."

Alistair's brow wrinkled. "Why would they even do something like that? What could we possibly say to them to convince them to come to our aid? Then there's the fact that the Chasind are dangerous savages-"

"See, I've never understood that." Emily confessed. "I grew up around the Wilds and I met several of the Chasind. They may have been a bit…rustic, but they never seemed violent. I always wondered if the Chantry tried to make people believe that they were evil simply because they don't follow Andraste."

Alistair studied his hands for a few minutes before speaking again. "I suppose that's possible…but I'm not sure that it's worth the risk. Those people don't exactly hold any love for northerners either."

"We could at least try." goaded the mage. "Everything else considered, going through the Wilds seems like our safest option to get to Lothering." She shrugged. "So we might as well do a little recruiting along the way."

"I'll think about it." Said the prince noncommittally.

Emily grinned and stroked his hair at his left temple before bending over and whispering, "That's all I ask." into his ear. She heard him exhale unevenly and felt his body shudder when her hot breath assaulted his ear. To make things even more interesting, she let her teeth scrape across the end of his lobe before moving her soft lips to his scruffy cheek and letting them linger for a minute.

She backed away just enough to have a full view of his hazel eyes. She could see his lust dancing within them like a wildfire in dry brush. "Why did you decide to stop calling me Emily?" she asked quietly.

Alistair took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering her question. "I wasn't sure you wanted me to anymore."

She bit her bottom lip and batted her eyelashes flirtatiously. "Of course I do, silly."

Suddenly, Alistair jumped up from his chair and kicked it back. He pressed his lips to Emily's, spread her thighs apart and pulled her tightly into his body. She could feel his excitement jump as he used his hands on her behind to press it harder into her groin. His lips moved from her mouth to her ear. She heard him whisper, "Emily" in a throaty strained voice before he moved on to her neck. The musky scent of his cologne, the feel of his stubble against her skin was almost more than she could stand.

She felt the gooseflesh on her skin rise as his hands moved up her back and began to unbuckle the halter strap beneath her flowing mane. Once the strap was free, Alistair pulled her top down to expose her full bosom. Emily then wrapped her legs around him, crossing her ankles just below his buttocks, and guided his lips to her bare breasts. She let out a moan and tugged at his blonde hair when she felt his warm tongue make contact with her erect nipple. His hands moved around to her front and untied the strings of her corset before tearing it open.

Alistair's mouth moved away from her skin long enough to pull his own shirt over his head. Once it was off, he grabbed the back of her head and covered her mouth with his. She felt his fingers working at the leather strings at the sides of her trousers and began running her fingernails down his bare back.

He began shoving parchment and maps to the floor as he laid her back onto the desk. When his lips began descending to her abdomen and she felt his hands tugging at her waistband, her mind began screaming at her to tell him to stop. They were still barely more than strangers. They hardly knew each other. If she shared his bed right then, there would be no way that their feelings for each other would develop any further. He would walk out on her the way Fenris had. She didn't want to feel that kind of rejection and heartbreak again, yet her longing need for him wouldn't allow her to tell him to stop. She reasoned that he told her that they could never be anything more than friends and one afternoon with him was better than nothing. And it had been so very long since she felt a man's touch in that way…

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Okay you two," she heard Isabela say "I know you're in there. You've got two minutes to make yourselves decent because I'm coming in."


	22. Chapter 22

_Maker's Balls Isabela! _thought Emily when she heard the pirate's voice.

Alistair gave her bare belly a quick kiss just beneath her navel before standing at his full height and helping her sit up. He entangled his fingers in the locks at the back of her head and pulled her toward him to cover her mouth with his. His breathing was short and uneven when his lips moved away from hers. He placed the tip of his nose against hers and softly rubbed the two together as he refastened the buckle at the back of her neck.

"Thank you" Emily whispered.

With only a crooked grin in reply, the prince bent and retrieved his shirt from the floor while Emily pulled up her trousers and smalls and then began rethreading and cinching her top. Isabela hadn't been lying when she said two minutes because when time was up, she opened the door without another warning. Alistair was completely dressed, but his shirt was untucked and his hair was mussed. Emily, on the other hand, still hadn't finished tying her top or trousers.

"Mm-hmm" the pirate smirked knowingly while crossing her arms "that's what I thought."

The mage blushed. "What's going on Isabela?"

"Sorry to interrupt," the woman drawled "but I just got word that the personal guards of this province's magister are on their way to Wesburn."

"For what purpose?" asked Alistair.

"I don't have a clue" replied the pirate matter-of-factly "but I don't plan on sticking around to find out either."

"So the repairs are finished then I take it?" Emily questioned while she continued to get her clothes situated.

"Not quite." confessed Isabela. "All of the parts she needs are onboard and my men are still working on her, but she's not ready just yet."

"So what do we do about that?" Alistair prodded.

"We shove off anyway." shrugged the captain. "My men will just have to finish when we dock at Jader. It's not that far from here, a little over a day actually. We'll just have to make do with what we have."

"Very well, Isabela." the mage concurred. "How much time do we have?"

"We will be shoving off in twenty minutes." Isabela informed them. "And if you aren't on board by then, you will have to find your own way to Jader."

With that, the pirate walked from the room, leaving Emily and Alistair alone once more. An awkward silence fell between them. Emily didn't know what to say or do so she simply remained standing there concentrating on her feet.

Alistair cleared his throat. "Yes, well…I suppose we should get moving if we are to make the ship before it leaves port."

"I suppose you're right." Emily agreed. She looked into his eyes and she could tell that he wanted to say something more, but he didn't. "I should probably go pack my things now."

"Um…yes" he stammered. "As should I."

The mage gave the prince a small bow of her head and turned to walk back to her room.

"Emily?" he called.

She circled to face him once again. "Yes…Alistair?"

He inhaled deeply before shaking his head sadly. "Nothing…never mind."

Emily felt a bit disappointed that he didn't say anything else to her, but she knew that she had to hurry and gather her gear to make it back to the harbor on time. Silently she walked from the room and quickly headed to her own quarters to pack.

Once she was finished, she went to Alistair's room to walk with him back to the ship, but he was already gone. When she got downstairs, however, she found him waiting near the door with the others. They fell in step in a single file line and quietly found their way back to the docks. Almost as soon as they were boarded, the gangplank was pulled and the ship began its heading to the west.

Alistair and the other four gathered at the helm and the prince began going over the route they would be taking once they made it back to dry land. While in the middle of his explanation, one of the young deck hands approached Isabela with a sealed envelope.

"This arrived for you just before we shoved off Captain." he told her in a squeaky voice making Emily think that he couldn't have been over fifteen. "There is also a trunk that came with it. The quartermaster told us to stow it in your quarters."

"Very well, Ainsley." she said. "That will be all."

The boy scurried back to his duties and Isabela began breaking the unknown seal. The first thing she removed from the envelope was a very tarnished and ancient looking brass key. Then she pulled out a small piece of parchment. Her brown eyes darted back and forth as she read and after only a few seconds, she crumpled the note in her hand and tossed it over the back railing.

"Bad news?" Emily queried.

The captain shook her head. "No, it was just a note from Teagan asking me to give the trunk to his nephew."

Alistair seemed a bit taken aback. "A trunk? For me? But what could Teagan have possibly sent me that would need a trunk?"

"I guess there's only one way to find out." Isabela replied.

They followed the pirate to her cabin where they found a black trunk with brass trim. There was nothing exceptionally spectacular or special about it. In fact, it seemed rather old and beaten. The brass was tarnished and the paint of the wood was worn and flaking in some places. Isabela shot a questioning look at the prince who shrugged letting her know that the trunk itself held no significance to him.

Isabela slid the old key that she found in the envelope into the lock and slowly turned it. Emily heard the rusty tumblers roll and click as the lock released. Inside, there were a few rolled up parchments and another envelope addressed to Alistair sitting atop a piece of thick burgundy velvet. The prince opened the scrolls first to reveal the maps that Teagan had promised. Next, he broke the seal on the envelope and a puzzled expression took over his face.

"What is it?" Emily asked.

"My dearest nephew," Alistair read aloud, "enclosed, please find a few of your things that I have been holding onto for the past seven years. I had hoped that someday you might want them back and I think the time has come for them to be returned to you. Use them well…Teagan." His brow wrinkled and he pursed his lips before taking a knee and pulling back the piece of fine cloth in the top of the trunk. Beneath the top layer of velvet was a bright silver longsword with ornate lines etched throughout the blade which glowed turquoise blue.

"Wow." breathed Emily. "That is probably the most beautiful blade I have ever seen."

Alistair picked it up and held it to the light shining through the cabin's window. It shone brilliantly in the sun. "It's called Starfang." he explained. "It was made by the blacksmith Mikhael Dryden at Soldier's Peak from a piece of meteor metal that Erin found in a crater in the forest." The prince turned the blade back and forth in his hands, his hazel eyes haunted by a long forgotten memory.

"I think there's more." Emily offered in order to get his mind off of what she knew had to be memories of her cousin.

Alistair placed the sword next to his right foot and pulled back another layer of cloth to reveal a blue and grey rectangular shield. In the center of the shield was a large blue and white griffin on a grey background which was flanked on its left and right by gold trim separating it from two strips of blue at each side. The prince ran his hand across the image of the creature and Emily noticed that his eyes had become watery. He swallowed hard before picking up the piece of armor and laying atop the sword at his feet.

"Are you okay, Alistair?" the mage asked with concern. He nodded but didn't say anything before pulling back the last layer of velvet. The bottom of the trunk held a set of ornate heavy plated gold and black armor. The prince's head fell forward and he exhaled loudly before shaking his head.

"I can't wear this." he whispered. "Not anymore."

"What do you mean?" Emily questioned.

When the prince looked up at her, she noticed the droplets on his cheeks. He sniffed and inhaled deeply and unevenly. "This armor…it belonged to my brother Cailan. He was wearing it when he was slain at Ostagar. The monsters that killed him ripped it from his body and split the pieces among themselves.

When Erin and I retrieved it later, I was simply going to take it back to Arl Eamon so he could do something with it to honor Cailan's memory. When I gave it to him, he said that it was a symbol of Theirin might and power and the best way to honor both my brother and my father would be to wear it when I took the crown. If I wear it now, it brings honor to no one. It would only bring shame to the Theirin name for me to don this armor."

"That's not true Alistair." Emily assured him.

"Of course it is." cried Alistair while furiously wiping his damp cheeks with the heels of his right palm. "And this shield…it's the same thing. It belonged to Duncan, the Grey Warden that recruited me…the one that gave his life protecting the king at Ostagar. I don't deserve to bear that shield…I don't deserve anything."

Emily's heart was breaking for him. She didn't know what to say to make him feel better, to make him see that he was worthy. "Alistair." she whispered.

He got to his feet and shook his head as he walked away. "I need a drink." Emily grabbed his arm to stop him, but he pushed her hand away. "Leave me alone." he growled before adding, "and please don't come to my room anymore. Just stay away from me Hawke. I don't need your damn pity. I don't need anyone."

Emily couldn't stop the tears in her eyes from falling. After what nearly happened in his room earlier, to have him just turn from her and tell her to keep away, it was more than her heart could take.

"What an asshole." Isabela grimaced. "You don't need him Hawke. He's a broken-down drunk wallowing in self-pity. He doesn't deserve someone like you. He doesn't deserve anything but the bottom of a bottle."

The mage shook her head. "No, Isabela." she said softly. "He deserves to be happy just like anyone else. I suppose that I'm just not the one who can show him that." Emily's tears started falling in earnest and she had to quickly get away so no one else could see how upset she was...before she really broke down.

Emily headed for the bow, crawled out onto the bowsprit just behind the staysail and laid down face-first on the safety netting. She placed her head on her folded hands and closed her eyes, listening to the waves crash against the prow and feeling the ocean spray against her skin. Whatever it was that she was feeling for the exiled prince, she had to let it go.

"Dammit Anders." she whispered through furious tears. "Things would be so much easier if you were here. Why did you have to leave me? Why did you have to die?"


	23. Chapter 23

Fenris stood against the foremast, arms crossed, watching the spirit of the strongest woman he had ever known crumble. Emily Hawke was not the type of person that shed tears. She was always the rock that others would lean on in troubled times, but there she was, alone, dealing with emotions he could only hope to understand. Sure she had broken his heart, but it was his own fault. He wondered if how she was reacting to Alistair's rejection was the same way she reacted to his.

Part of him wanted to go to her, to try to comfort her, but he was afraid that it would seem opportunistic. The elf really wasn't sure what he should do. What he wanted to do was grab his royal drunkenness by the throat and break his neck. On the other hand, what Alistair had just done to Hawke still wasn't as bad as what he himself had done to her.

Fenris observed Hawke rolling over onto her back and covering her eyes. His heart ached for her. He hadn't been around for the aftermath of his own actions, but this wasn't the first time he had seen her fall apart. Everyone else thought she had it all together, but Fenris saw her drunken and broken tears that she herself didn't even know that she had shed. A lifetime of holding in pain and loss had taken its toll on her the first time he had ever seen her cry. That was the night that he knew without a doubt that he was in love with her and had been from the very beginning. It was also the first night that he seriously considered killing Anders.

Hawke had been moping around a bit for a couple of months, but nobody else seemed to notice. Fenris also became aware of the fact that Anders was never around much anymore and when he was, he was cold and distant to everyone, including Hawke. It was obvious that something was amiss between the two lovers, but he decided to stay out of it.

Then, one night as he was on his way home from the Hanged Man and an unsuccessful game of Wicked Grace, he spotted Hawke walking around by herself as if she was searching for something. She was always a formidable woman, but he knew that even she would have a hard time facing some of the seedier elements of the city alone if they had a mind to attack. So, Fenris decided that he would follow her to make sure that she stayed safe.

First he trailed her to the Blooming Rose. He knew that Hawke would never go to that place for herself because she just wasn't that type of woman. Fenris's assumptions were proven correct when she reappeared through the door less than fifteen minutes later. She stood there for only a few minutes before making her way to the exit into Darktown.

Once in the Undercity, she headed straight for Anders' clinic and seemed genuinely surprised that the door was unlocked. When she entered, she left the door slightly ajar so Fenris decided to eavesdrop. He knew that it was wrong and he knew that Hawke would be furious if she ever found out, but he figured since he was there anyway, he might as well try to discover what was going on between her and her lover.

He saw Varric speaking with Anders as Hawke waited for their conversation to come to a close. Her head was turned at an angle so that Fenris could see that her expression was one of both hurt and anger. When he saw Varric walking toward the door just seconds later, he pressed his back against the wall in the shadow of the corner so as not to be seen.

Once the dwarf was gone, he hurried and cracked the door again to watch and listen. Anders seemed genuinely surprised to see Hawke standing there when she approached him.

"Emily, I wasn't expecting to see you tonight." he said questioningly.

"Anders, I got home and found all of your things missing. What's going on?" she asked in a strained voice.

He turned from her. "I thought that it was better this way. I've been wanting to tell you for weeks, but I just couldn't do it."

"Wanting to tell me what?" she asked, placing her hand on his right shoulder. He circled back around to face her.

"I want you to know that I love you." he began. "You stood by me when I gave you every reason to turn away, but…"

"Is there someone else?" she questioned softly.

He stepped forward and took her hands and began rubbing her knuckles with his thumbs as he studied them. After several moments, he finally looked her in the eyes again. "No…my heart belongs to you and you alone, Emily. It's not about that." She started to speak, but he covered her lips with his fingertips. "Just let me finish…please." She nodded and his hand moved back to hers. "I love you, Emily and I wish that meant that I would never hurt you. You have been the most important thing in my life, but some things matter more than my life…more than either of us…I'm sorry."

Hawke shook her head. "You're wrong." She cried, anger, hurt and desperation all filling her voice. "There is nothing more important than love, Anders."

Anders reached up and untied the red ribbon at her crown, allowing her long wavy tresses to fall down her shoulders. He ran his right hand through her hair before tucking it behind her ear. His thumb began caressing her cheek and she covered his hand with hers as she gazed into his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Em." he whispered. "I told you that I would break your heart. Just know that it breaks mine to do it. I was hoping we could find a better way, but Justice and Vengeance are too intertwined. I can't tell one from the other anymore."

"So this _is _about him, then?"

"No, this is about so much more. This is about what I have been fighting for over the past seven years. Being with you made me lose sight of what's really important, of the bigger picture."

"So you're saying that I'm not important?" she asked as she began to back away. Anders grabbed her hand and pulled her close. His hands ran up her back and entangled in the hair at the nape of her neck. He bent forward and pressed his forehead against hers.

"Of course you're important Emily." he murmured. "You were the one to help me see the things that are good and right in this world. You opened my eyes to new possibilities and the fact that everyone should be able to be free to have what we have shared. You were the one shining light in my life. If you remember nothing else of me, remember that I have loved you with every bit of my heart and I always will."

He then kissed her softly, turned and began walking away from her once again. She pulled at the delicate emerald ring on her left hand and placed it on his desk.

"Anders?" she called and he stopped in his tracks. "I think that you should probably have this back." He silently nodded. "I won't pretend that I understand this, but it is obviously something you feel that you need to do…but I want you to know that I love you down to my very soul and I will wait for you until you are finished with whatever this is that you feel you have to do, until you change your mind. You are the only thing in this world that matters to me…you are my world…and I will wait for you forever if I have to."

The blonde mage stood there for a long moment, his shoulders slumped, before silently walking into the back room of the clinic and closing the door behind him. When Hawke circled to face Fenris, he could see the anguish on her face. He thought to himself that he had never seen anyone so dejected looking in his entire life.

When she headed for the door, he once again pressed himself into the shadows and watched her walk past. He followed her to the Hanged Man and decided that Varric or Isabela would take care of her after that, so he went home. The entire way back to his mansion, he couldn't get what had just happened off his mind. He also couldn't get the expression on Hawke's face out of his head.

_It is really not my problem. _Fenris thought. _Hawke is strong. She will have a talk with Isabela and they will drink and do some man-bashing for the rest of the night. Hawke will be fine._

Later that night, Fenris discovered how wrong he was when Hawke showed up on his doorstep soaked to the bone from the rain, smelling like whiskey and completely intoxicated. After he invited her in, she fell to the floor weeping like a babe.

"Fenris?" she sobbed. "What's wrong with me?"

The elf didn't know what to do or say. He knelt down beside her and she peered up at him with glassy emerald-green eyes. "What makes you think that there is something wrong with you Hawke?"

She shook her head frantically. "Because everyone walks out on me eventually." Fenris knew that he was included in that sentiment, but before he could come up with an answer, Hawke sat up and encircled his waist with her arms. "Why did Anders leave me Fenris?" she asked, her voice muffled by the muscles of the elf's bare chest. "Am I so terrible? Am I just one of those people who is incapable of being loved?"

Fenris put his hands on her cheeks and lifted her face so he could look her in the eyes. It was in that moment that he lost his heart to her completely. For the first time in his life, he was more concerned with someone else's pain than his own and his only goal for that very moment was to stop the tears flowing from Hawke's brilliant green eyes…even if it meant defending the one person he detested above all others.

"You are not incapable of being loved, mal amica." he spoke gently. "Anders loves you…anyone can see that. He is just confused and he feels that there are things that he needs to do. He will see his error in time and he will return to you. He is obsessive, stubborn and infuriating, but he is not unintelligent."

Hawke sniffed and swiped her damp eyes with the backs of her hands. "Do you really think so?" she asked. The expression on her face reminded the elf of an innocent and trusting child.

"Yes." he lied. "I really think so."

Hawke smiled. "Thank you Fenris…I'm glad I couldn't find my way home tonight." She snuggled her head against his chest and after only a few minutes, he heard her snoring softly. Fenris tried to wake her, but she was passed out cold so he carried her upstairs and pulled off her wet clothes replacing them with a dry linen shirt. Once he had covered her with several thick blankets, he sat down on the nearby window seat to watch over her…in case she needed him again.

The next morning, Hawke awoke surprised to find herself in the elf's bed. Fenris explained that she showed up at his door because she was too intoxicated to find her way home and that she passed out so he put her up in his bed for the night. He completely left out the part about her breakdown because he knew that she would be mortified if she found out the truth. He made them a kettle of tea and they spent the rest of the morning talking about everything under the sun…everything but Anders anyway. By the time the midday sun was sitting high above the city, Fenris and Hawke discovered more about each other than they had in the previous seven years. After that day, the mage always referred to Fenris as her best friend and it was a mantle he wore proudly.

"So how's our girl doing?" Isabela asked with a whisper. Her sudden appearance startled the elf a bit, but he gained his composure quickly.

"I think she has felt better." he observed.

The pirate balled her fist and screwed her face into an expression of rage. "Ooh, I just want to go down there and beat the shit out of that asshole."

"I do not think that it would help matters."

"Well, it would certainly make me feel better." admitted the captain.

"I understand your sentiment Isabela because the thought has crossed my mind several times." Fenris confessed. "However, I do not think that this is just about Alistair. It has very little to do with him, in fact."

Isabela crossed her arms and shook her head sadly. "Anders."

"Anders." echoed the elf.

"Nothing against you, Fenris," the pirate began "but I know how sad and lonely Hawke has been since Anders walked out on her and it was even worse after he died. I was sort of hoping that Alistair would be the one to help her begin to heal that heartache." Fenris simply nodded before Isablea added, "I mean, I tried to put in a good word for _you, _but-"

"It is fine." the elf said, cutting her off. "I let that chance pass me by long ago."

"So what should we do about Hawke?" the captain asked turning Fenris's attention back to their forlorn friend.

Isabela's words about Alistair healing Hawke's heart made Fenris come to a very important decision. "Isabela, take Hawke to your cabin and do what you can to make her feel better. I am going to get my sword."


	24. Chapter 24

"You really shouldn't be lying about out there." Emily heard Isabela say. "That salt water will ruin your hair."

The mage sighed heavily and lifted her forearm in time to see her friend climbing out onto the bowsprit. "I think I would just rather be alone for a while, Isabela."

The pirate captain sat down next to Emily. "No Hawke, that's the one thing you _don't_ need right now." Isabela shoved a bottle of clear liquid into Emily's chest. "What you need is a good stiff drink and a friend to tell your troubles to."

At first, Emily thought to refuse her friend's offer, especially for the drink, but she found herself suddenly wanting to stop feeling the pain that was tearing at her soul. She sat up, removed the cork from the rum and took a long swig. After she replaced the bottle in her lap, she leaned over and rested her head on Isabela's shoulder. The pirate immediately put a comforting arm around her and Emily moved her head until its top was nestled at the base of Isabela's neck. The pirate took the bottle from the mage and gulped down some of its contents before handing it back to her friend.

After several long minutes of silence, Isabela finally patted Emily on the thigh with her free hand. "All right sweetpea, time to move this party inside. It's getting rather chilly out here and if we don't get out of this damp air soon, we'll both catch our deaths."

Emily found the pirate's serious demeanor more than a little odd. "This is a bit out of character for you. Are you feeling alright Isabela?"

"Well," replied the captain in a lighter tone, "I didn't want to say anything, but I was hoping that between the rum and having your face practically buried in my cleavage, I might be able to talk you into having a little fun. Who needs men anyway?" The mage shook her head and chuckled before sitting up. "I guess if you really _need_ a man involved," continued the pirate "I could always fetch young Anion and we could make it a real party."

"Your depravity really knows no bounds does it, Izzy?" Emily joked.

Isabela shrugged her shoulder and flashed a wicked smirk. "You have no idea how depraved I can be…but I'm more than willing to show you."

Emily couldn't help but laugh at her friend. "You're incorrigible. You know that don't you?"

"Maybe so," answered the captain, "but I got you to laugh."

The mage nodded. "Thank you." she smiled.

Isabela scooted on her bottom until she was at the base of the bowsprit, stood and reached back to help Emily down from her perch. The mage took her friend's hand to balance herself as she descended the jutting spar. Once her feet were safely back on the deck, Emily followed Isabela to the captain's quarters.

* * *

Alistair dreamed that he was falling from a high place just before he landed flat on his face in reality.

"Get up you drunken imbecile." He heard a low voice demand and it took him a few moments to realize what was happening.

"What the bloody hell, Fenris?" the prince yelled as he rolled to his side. He was unsure of what the elf was doing and he really didn't care. All he knew was that his head was hurting from the bottle of Antivan brandy he had downed and now he was certain his nose was broken from hitting the floor.

In answer to his question, the sword and shield he had refused to bear earlier that evening landed with a loud clank by his arm. "You have exactly thirty seconds in which to arm yourself before I begin swinging." sneered Fenris. "I suggest that you hurry."

Alistair, not taking the elf's threat seriously, slowly reached for the shield lying next to him. He wondered why Fenris was so angry especially considering the fact that he had told Emily to stay away from him. He would have thought that would have made the elf happy, if that was even possible. Maybe Fenris found out what had happened with Emily in his room earlier.

"Look…Fenris" the prince began, but was cut off by a large claymore bearing down toward his head. He rolled onto his back and pushed his shield up to protect himself from the blow. When the blade hit, Alistair thought that his arms might shatter from the force of it. "What in the Maker's flaming balls is wrong with you?" he shouted as he grabbed his sword and scrambled to his feet.

"How long has it been since you held a blade, your highness?" interrogated the elf and by the tone of his voice, he made it very clear that he meant the form of address as an insult.

"What damned difference does that make?" Alistair questioned before he had to block another swing from the silver-haired warrior.

Fenris turned his back, walked toward the ladder leading topside and began to ascend its rungs. "You will join me on deck…unless you are a complete coward. And if you are, I will simply come back down and rid the world of your gutlessness by cleaving you in half."

The prince watched as the elf disappeared into the evening air above and he considered going back to bed, but part of him was afraid that Fenris might actually make good on his threat. He heaved a sigh and his shoulders slumped as he made his way to the upper floor of the ship. Fenris was casually leaning against the main mast, the tip of his blade resting on the swabbed wood in front of his feet.

He harrumphed loudly when Alistair was standing at his full height before him. "It is good to see that you are not as big a coward as I took you for."

"Now for the Maker's sake," the prince implored, "tell me what this is about."

Fenris charged toward the larger man, brandishing his broadsword. Alistair could feel his anger rising within him as he readied himself for another impact. This time, however, he struck back at the elf with his own blade.

"I am under the impression that you have not touched a weapon since you left Ferelden seven years ago." the warrior observed as he countered Alistair's swing.

The prince blocked and thrust the point of his blade toward Fenris. "I don't see what that has to do with anything." he responded. "And I don't see how it's your business. Why do you care anyway?"

The elf engaged Alistair's sword and took a step closer. "You are to be one of Hawke's companions." he hissed. "Which means that you are to be her protector. If you do not have the ability to use that sword any longer then you are of no use to her and therefore no use to anyone."

The prince took a side step in order to break the stand-off and rounded into a lunge at Fenris's throat. "It has been a while since I have used a sword, yes. But as you can see, it is starting to come back to me."

Fenris glided his blade toward Alistair's and pushed to his right in an attempt to disarm his opponent. "It may be starting to come back to you, but you will require a great deal more practice to be worthy of standing at Hawke's side in battle."

Alistair quickly circled, pulling his longsword beneath the elf's weapon which threw Fenris off balance enough for the prince to place the edge of his blade at the warrior's neck. "Maybe not as much as you think, elf."

Fenris flashed a self-satisfied smirk. "So there is some fight left in you after all."

"It would seem so." Alistair retorted as he removed Starfang from the side of the elf's throat. "But I have a sneaky suspicion that all of this is about more than whether or not I can use a sword."

Fenris drove his sword into the sheath at his back. "Perhaps you are not as much of a halfwit as you seem."

"Yes," snarked the prince dropping his blade and shield to the floor. "I'm just full of surprises." He crossed his arms. "So what is all of this _really_ about?"

Fenris's deep green eyes narrowed with intensity as he stared the prince down. "First you must answer a question for me…Do you care for Hawke as much as you seem to or is she simply some sort of conquest for you?"

"Why does it matter?" Alistair queried. "She's yours…unless this is your way of telling me to stay away from her."

The elf rolled his eyes. "I take back my previous statement in regards to you being a halfwit. Your intelligence would have to be much improved to be considered such."

"Very funny." quipped the prince.

"It was not meant to be a joke." Fenris frowned. "Just answer the question."

"I hardly know the woman," Alistair replied before adding, "but if you're asking if I would like to know her better, the answer is yes."

"That was not the question." countered the elf. "Saying that you would like to know Hawke could have more than one meaning."

Alistair exhaled loudly. "I can see that you're not going to let this go, but the answer is not so simple. Although I have only known her a few days, I could picture myself having a future with Emily but she would have no hope of a future with me. I have become a shell of what I once was and I have absolutely nothing to offer her but a life of heartbreak, misery and shame. From what I do know of Emily, I know that she deserves a lot more than I could ever give to her."

Fenris drew a deep breath and let it out slowly as he studied the wooden planks beneath his boots. "Hawke has suffered more heartache than you know and much more than anyone such as she deserves." he began. "It is my greatest shame to admit that I personally caused some of it. It is also my biggest regret. Hawke has the most tremendous capacity to love that I have ever witnessed and I threw that love away."

Alistair shook his head in confusion and furrowed his brow. "Wait…what? I thought that the two of you…"

The elf's shoulders slumped. "No. I waited too long to apologize and reveal my true feelings and she made it abundantly clear that it is not me whom she wants."

"Are you saying it's _me_ then?" asked the prince.

"I am simply saying that her heart is broken just as yours is." Fenris explained. "I am merely suggesting that perhaps you might find healing in each other."

Alistair still wasn't sure he could ever live up to Emily's former lover. "I don't think that I could ever be like Anders." he confessed sadly.

Fenris snorted. "Trust me when I tell you that is the best news I have heard so far. As bitter as it tastes, I will admit that he treated her decently for a time, but in the end it was Anders that broke her heart more than anyone else. If you were to become like him, I would put the blade to you myself."

It wasn't the first time the prince had heard that Anders hurt Emily. Was it possible that Alistair was making the man out to be better than he actually was? Maybe…no he couldn't. He couldn't endure what Erin put him through, not again. There wasn't anything in Thedas to convince him that taking another chance on love was worth the heartache it could bring.

"I can't." Alistair whispered with shame. "I just can't."

A bitter chuckle emitted from Fenris. "Those are almost the exact words I used right before I walked out on Hawke the night that…well never mind it is done and no longer important." The elf wore a sad, almost sympathetic expression. "May I give you one piece of advice before we part ways for the evening?"

The prince shrugged half-heartedly. "Sure."

"Do not be the fool that I was." Fenris told him. "I have known Hawke for years and I can tell you one thing for certain…she is more than worthy of your trust. I just came to that realization too late."

Alistair nodded. "I will give it some serious consideration." The elf gave the prince a slight bow before circling to walk back to the hatch leading below decks. He was stopped in his tracks by the sound of Alistair's voice saying, "thanks Fenris."

The warrior didn't even glance in Alistair's direction when he spoke. "I did not do it for you…I did it for her." He held his right hand up in front of his chest and fiddled with a red cloth wrapped around his wrist before untying it and releasing it into the ocean breeze.

"You have won Hawke's favor, do not throw it away as I did because you will regret it for the remainder of your days." he concluded before disappearing down the hatchway leaving Alistair with an overwhelming urge to find Emily… and maybe take the chance that he had been afraid of taking.


	25. Chapter 25

As he searched the ship, Alistair became aware of the fact that he didn't even know what he would say when he found Emily. He knew that he owed her an apology, but beyond that, he just wasn't sure. The first place he looked was in the crew quarters. When he didn't locate her there, he checked the galley and the cargo hold before climbing back up to the main deck. After a thorough examination topside, he stood next to the bowsprit scratching his head.

_Where could she be? _he mused. She couldn't have just disappeared. She had to be on the ship somewhere. The only place he hadn't looked was Isabela's cabin. Upon giving it some thought, he realized that the captain's quarters was probably the first place he should have looked. That was the last place he saw her. He could also tell by the expression on Emily's face when he walked away that he had hurt her feelings very badly and she and Isabela were obviously very close friends. Of course the pirate would have tried to comfort her.

The prince practically ran toward the door leading to Isabela's cabin. Once he was there, he allowed himself a moment to catch his breath and try to calm the thundering of his heart. He gave a few quick knocks on the rough wood and waited with bated breath.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door finally opened a crack and he saw Isabela peeking out at him. "What do _you_ want?" she asked contemptuously.

"I need to speak to Emily." he requested.

The pirate opened the door wide enough to slip through to the outside and shut it behind her. "Don't you think you've done enough for tonight?"

"Look, I know I was an ass to her and she didn't deserve that," Alistair explained "but I came here to apologize."

Isabela folded her tanned arms over her ample bosom and leered at him. "You owe Hawke more than a simple apology and you know it."

"I know" he agreed, "but I'm willing to get down on my knees and grovel at her feet if that's what it will take to earn her forgiveness."

"You've been putting out mixed signals ever since you laid eyes on each other." observed the captain. "So how do I know you aren't just going to apologize tonight and then turn around and do something to hurt her feelings again tomorrow?"

The prince clapped his fist to the left side of his chest. "I swear to you, Isabela, on what little honor I possess that I will never treat Emily like that again."

The raider shook her head. "For nearly three and a half years, I watched Anders put her through this same kind of shit. One minute he was all over her and the next he was pushing her away. He had her so confused that she hardly knew which end was up most of the time. I won't see her go through that again Alistair. I know you barely even know each other and I know it's asking a lot, but Hawke is an all-in type of woman. If you can't handle that…if you're not willing to give being with her a real chance, then you might as well walk now and forget about it completely. Give her a few days to lick her wounds clean and just be her friend without any of that other bullshit."

Alistair nodded. "I understand Isabela, and I never thought I would say this after…well, you know, but I'm willing to give it a shot."

Isabela turned her back on him for only a split second, but the next thing Alistair knew, he was pinned against the outside wall of the captain's quarters with a blade at his throat. The Rivaini put her lips close enough to his ear that he could feel her warm breath against his skin.

"Very well," she hissed, "I will allow you entrance into my cabin. But know this, if you are lying or if you hurt her again I will not hesitate to slit your royal throat."

Alistair gulped and could feel the sharp knife threatening to dig into his flesh. "Understood." he whispered and she backed away, but kept the dagger at his neck.

Isabela's eyes narrowed. "So would you still like to see Hawke now, or would you rather wait until morning when you've had time to give it some thought."

The prince didn't even hesitate. "I would like to speak to her now."

The captain pulled the blade back and returned it to the sheath that was hidden in the top of her left boot before opening the door and gesturing him in. "Oh, by the way." she added in a whisper as Alistair walked through, "just in case the two of you do make up and get any ideas, it has been weeks since that bed has seen any use other than sleeping. If I am not getting any satisfaction on it, there is no way in Thedas that anyone else is either. I _will_ know if something happens and if it does, _somebody_ is going to enjoy the sensation of my size nine boot going up his ass."

"Got it." Alistair said, showing her the thumb of his right hand.

"I'll be at the helm if anybody needs me." she informed him.

"Thanks Isabela."

With a small bob of her head, she turned and headed for the steps leading to the tiller leaving Alistair standing at the door with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he wasn't sure was from love or fear…or maybe both.

* * *

Emily sat at the small wooden table in the corner of Isabela's room waiting for her friend's return. There had been quite a bit of noise out on the deck earlier, but the pirate dismissed it as some of the men just blowing off steam. Then everything went quiet for a time before someone knocked on the door. The mage assumed that it was more than likely Fenris checking up on her.

Although the elf had managed to get her through some rough times after Anders' death and even after Anders walked out on her, he wasn't exactly comfortable when it came to dealing with emotions. Emily knew that he worried about her, but she also knew that he was more than willing to allow Isabela be her emotional crutch.

After several minutes, the mage began to wonder if her friend was going to return at all. Maybe it had been the ship's first mate at the door because there was a problem at the helm. Emily moved to stand but instantly fell back to the chair below. She and Isabela had made a game of bouncing coppers into a cup and she found that she was more than a little tipsy. The one rule was that if either of them missed, they had to down a large swig of rum and Emily had been losing spectacularly.

She had just placed her hands on the edge of the table to brace herself for standing again, when she spied someone walking toward her. She slipped back down onto her seat and narrowed her eyes to focus on the tall man that was now standing right in front of her.

"Hi." said Alistair with a penitent tone.

Emily grinned stupidly. "Oh, hello." She said in a sing-song voice and brandishing the half-empty bottle of rum that she retrieved from the table. "Care to join me for a drink?"

The prince hesitated for a moment before turning the empty chair across the table around. He threw his long leg over it and straddled the back. "Sure" he shrugged, "why the hell not?"

Emily gulped some of the clear liquid before handing it to Alistair. He guzzled down nearly half of what was left and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Liquid courage." he whispered so softly that the mage barely caught the words he spoke.

He slid the bottle back to her and she barely caught it before it fell off the edge. She smiled sheepishly up at him and the sight of his hazel eyes staring intently into hers made her heart skip a beat. "Is there something you wanted Alistair?" she asked casually. "Or did you come here to reiterate the fact that you want nothing to do with me?"

Alistair shook his head. "Of course not." he told her. He stood and approached her before taking a knee at her side. She felt his warm hand touch her face and his thumb caress her cheek. She placed her hand atop his and nuzzled her face against his palm for only a moment before pushing it away.

Emily swallowed hard. "No." she muttered. "I can't keep doing this."

Alistair bowed his head low and exhaled slowly. "This isn't exactly the way I wanted to do this." he began. "I'm not even sure that you'll remember this in the morning, especially considering you said you didn't remember the first time we were alone together." He looked up and gazed into her eyes. "But I have to say this…Emily, I apologize for being such an ass to you. I wouldn't be surprised if you never wanted to speak to me again actually and I couldn't blame you if you didn't…I have been blinded by my own pain for so long that I couldn't see the amazing woman standing before me offering to help me move past all of that. If you are still willing, I would like to give whatever this is between us a real chance. I know we've just met and I can't promise what the future holds for us, but I would like the opportunity to get to know you better…both as a lover as well as a friend."

Emily felt tears stinging at her eyes. She blinked them back as she stared into his hazel orbs trying to discern if he meant what he said or if it was simply the ramblings of a drunk man. What she saw there surprised her. She recognized truth and vulnerability, hope and a willingness to take another chance at love. Her smile lit up the dimly lit room as she bent down and kissed his lips softly. As she did, he reached up and untied the ribbon holding her hair. She pushed her chair back and joined him on the floor. When she began kissing him hungrily, he backed away enough to press his forehead against hers.

"Please don't think that I don't want this." he whispered as he rubbed the tip of her nose with his. "Because believe me I do...but not like this. I want it to be something we both remember. For tonight, I was hoping to just hold you and get to know you better."

She gazed at him questioningly for a moment before wrapping her arms around his waist and placing her head on his shoulder. "I would love that Alistair…I really would."


	26. Chapter 26

As Emily snuggled up to him, Alistair ran his fingers through her dark brown tresses for a few minutes before tucking her bangs behind her left ear and planting a gentle kiss on her crown. He closed his eyes and reveled in the sensation of just being near her and feeling her body against his.

Emily sighed contentedly. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

He gave her shoulders a quick squeeze. "You."

"Well, what do you want to know?" she asked.

"Everything." he whispered.

Emily chuckled. "Well, that's probably going to take a while, so where should I start?"

"You said you were from Lothering?" he queried. "I suppose you could start there."

With that, Emily began to tell him about her childhood, how her father was an apostate and the fact that they had to move quite often because of it. He listened as she told him about the day she discovered she had the gift of magic and he felt his eyes stinging when she talked of how frightened she had been and how her father told her that she wasn't allowed to cry. He couldn't even begin to imagine what that must have been like for a five year old girl.

Erin had grown up in the Circle and never mentioned what her life was like before or even if she remembered anything about her family. As a would-be templar, Alistair never really thought about what it must be like for the young children who discovered their gifts that early only to be torn away from their families because of them.

She told him a bit more about her family and how her father and her sister died before describing how her uncle sold her and her brother Carver into perpetual slavery for a year in order to buy her family's way into Kirkwall. She related the tale of how she met Varric and his plan to get her and Carver into the Deep Roads expedition that the dwarf's older brother was planning.

"The first thing that Varric suggested that we do was find a Grey Warden who was rumored to be hiding out in the city in order to see if he might have maps into the Deep Roads."

"Why would a Grey Warden be hiding in the city?" Alistair inquired.

"Because he ran away from the Wardens and he was afraid that if they found him, they would try to make him return to the order. Of course, that was on top of the fact that he was also hiding from the templars."

"So he was an apostate as well?" asked the prince and Emily nodded. "So did you ever find him?"

He heard her sigh. "Yes, I found him. He was running a clinic in Darktown. Anders set it up so he could help Ferelden refugees who couldn't afford to pay for a healer."

It took a minute before Emily's words registered in the prince's brain. "Wait…Anders was a Grey Warden?"

"Yes." she replied. "In fact, my cousin was the one who conscripted him."

Alistair knew that his next question would probably sound odd coming from him of all people, but he just had to know. "So why did he leave the Wardens?"

Emily withdrew from his embrace and took a deep breath before closing her eyes and pressing the back of her head against the wall. "I'm not really sure how to explain that to you, Alistair."

She swallowed hard and when he noticed a tear trickle down her cheek, he gathered her back into his arms. "I'm sorry." he whispered. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

She sniffed and nuzzled her face against his neck. "It's not that I don't want to tell you, I just…just not tonight…okay?"

Alistair cupped her chin with his fingers and lifted her face so he could look into her brilliant emerald-green eyes. "It's okay, Emily. I understand. You don't have to tell me anything until you're ready."

She nodded. "Thank you."

He bent his head and tenderly kissed her soft lips. It was taking every ounce of strength he possessed not to pick her up and carry her to the nearby bed. He longed to be closer to her, to make love to her. His hands became entangled in her hair as his tongue began to dance against hers. The lust he had felt for her before had become something more, something deeper. It was a feeling that he had never experienced before, not even with Erin. He gently rubbed his nose against hers which earned him one of Emily's beautiful smiles.

Before he could stop himself, Alistair whispered, "Is it too soon for me to tell you that I think I'm falling in love with you?"

She searched his eyes as her face widened into a broad grin. "Not unless it's too soon for me to say the same."

His answer to her question came in the form of another long kiss. When their lips parted, she returned her head to his shoulder. After only a few minutes, he realized that her breaths had become even and that she had fallen asleep in his arms. He kissed the top of her head again and tightened his arms around her shoulders before leaning his head back and drifting off himself.

The next morning Alistair awoke to a smirking Isabela standing over them with her hands on her hips and the sunlight at her back. "You know, when I told you that I didn't want you having sex in my bed, I didn't mean that you had to spend the night on the floor."

He felt Emily stir in his arms before she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Good morning Isabela." she yawned as she stretched her arms wide.

The pirate chuckled. "And good morning to you, sweetpea. It looks like the two of you had a productive evening."

Alistair noticed that Emily's cheeks reddened a bit and he couldn't help but smile at how adorable the effect was. "I guess you could say that." the mage agreed.

Isabela gave the prince a quick wink. "As much as I hate to break up this little love-fest, I thought you should know that we will be docking in Jader in a few hours…you know, just in case you want to start getting your gear ready for when we make port…not to mention the fact that I would like to get a few hours of sleep before we land."

"Thanks for letting us know, Izzy." the mage told her before adding, "And for the generous use of your cabin for the night."

The pirate acknowledged her friend's gratitude with a tilted bow of her head. Emily stood and stretched again with Alistair following her lead by rising from the floor. Once he was at his full height, he became aware of the muscle aches that sleeping on a hard floor all night could cause. One glance at Emily, however, was all it took to assure him that spending the night holding her had been totally worth it.

As they walked out of the door that led back onto the main deck, Alistair took Emily's delicate hand into his which earned him a warm smile as well as a kiss on the cheek. Once below decks, the prince knew that they had to part company to prepare for the long journey that lay ahead, but he suddenly became aware of the fact that he didn't want to be away from her for even a moment. When Emily tried to walk away from him, he pulled her in close and encircled her waist with his arms.

A mischievous smirk played at the corners of his mouth. "I have decided to adopt a new rule."

She arched a brow. "Really?" she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I have a little secret that you should probably know right now." She leaned in closer and nipped his earlobe before whispering. "I don't typically follow anybody's rules but my own."

"Be that as it may," Alistair declared in a mockery of a demanding tone, "if we are going to be in a relationship, I'm afraid that I must insist that you follow _this_ one."

Emily leered playfully at him through narrowed eyes. "I see…well tell me what this rule of yours is and I _might_ consider following it…but only if it suits me."

His right hand reached up to hook her bangs behind her ear as he rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. "The rule is…you can never again leave my sight without honoring me with a kiss first."

Emily's emerald eyes were sparkling when she asked, "Is that a _direct_ order, your highness?"

The prince's shoulder lifted with a shrug. "I'm afraid so."

Her chest rose and fell with a heavy sigh. "Well, I suppose that I can't go against a direct order given to me by royalty. It won't be easy, but if that is your command, my prince, I shall obey it."

With those words, she reached up, placed her hands at the nape of his neck and pulled his mouth down to meet hers. As she softly kissed him, he held onto her tighter and wanted nothing more than to keep her in his arms forever.

When their lips finally parted, Emily moved both her eyes and her right hand down to the laces of his shirt and tugged at them. Her fingers caressed his bare chest for a moment before she gazed up at him lovingly.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." she promised softly before turning and walking away.

As the prince made his way to the cargo hold where he had stashed his personal items, he began to question something that he had always taken for granted before. When he was growing up, he never really knew what it felt like to be loved. He had no parents and spent most of his childhood sleeping on the cold hard ground. He had been shown kindness and pity by some, but never love. Because of that, when he and Erin began their relationship Alistair just assumed that what he felt for her was love, but he was beginning to realize that what he had with Erin may have not been real. His feelings for Erin paled in comparison to his feelings for Emily, a woman whom he had only known but a few days.

Once inside the hold, he cast his eyes to the ceiling above and whispered, "Dear Maker, please don't let me screw this up" before he began stuffing what little belongings he had into the small pack that lay next to his feet.

* * *

When Emily got to her bunk and began rummaging through the footlocker below it, she spied Anion sitting nearby. His eyes were closed and his head was pressed against the wall at his back. He had his left knee drawn up to his chest, his left wrist resting upon it while his hand dangled loosely. His right leg jutted straight out in front of him and his simple wooden staff was resting across his lap. In that position, the young man looked so much like Anders that Emily had to close her eyes and give herself a mental shake.

"Good morning, Anion." she greeted him warmly.

A smile broke out on his face before he even opened his eyes. "Good morning, falon." As he spoke, his lids fluttered open and Emily found herself almost mesmerized by his brilliant sky-blue orbs.

"What are you doing down here all by yourself?" she questioned.

The healer moved his staff to lay next to him and drew his right knee to his chest before resting the wrist of his free hand atop it. "I was just enjoying the solitude before our long journey begins."

"I'm sorry, Anion." she apologized. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

The elf shook his head. "You could never disturb me, Hawke. I quite enjoy your company actually."

Emily chuckled. "Are you flirting with me Anion?"

The smile faded from his face as he gazed up at her intently. "Would it make you uncomfortable if I said yes?"

"No" she replied. "I find it flattering actually." Emily knew that she could never feel anything other than friendship for the elf, but having such a young handsome man desiring her definitely gave her ego a boost.

The healer stood and sauntered toward her with his lips curled in a crooked smirk which once again caused a mental picture of Anders to flash through her mind. She tried to take a step back, but her progress was impeded by the hammock behind her.

Less than six inches remained between the two mages. Anion took a deep breath. "You are so beautiful, Hawke."

Emily couldn't manage more than a nervous smile upon hearing his words. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, but she was beginning to feel very uncomfortable in her current situation.

The young elf placed his right palm on the left side of her face. "Hamin, emm'asha." he whispered softly. "In ar ma dareth."

Emily swallowed hard. She found the healer standing before her kind, handsome and extremely sexy, but even if she had no feelings for Alistair at all, she just couldn't ever see herself being with the young mage. Maybe it was because Anion reminded her so much of Anders that just being around him flooded her soul with bittersweet memories of her deceased beloved. "Anion," she finally managed. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this."

"Please, Hawke." he murmured in a strained voice as his face drew nearer. "Give me a chance…just one kiss to try to win a place in your heart."

Before she could say another word, Emily felt his lips press against hers. The familiar tingle of magic that could only be felt when kissed by another with the gift assaulted her senses. It had been so long since she had known that sensation and it felt…wrong. A long forgotten memory was brought to the forefront of her mind…a story that Anders told her not long after they became friends.

Suddenly Emily became aware of the bile rising in the back of her throat and she felt as if she might vomit. She shoved the young elf away, almost knocking him to the floor. He looked confused and heartsick when his eyes met hers.

"I am sorry Anion, but this is not right."

"Why?" he pleaded. "Because of my age?"

"No," she told him with a sad smile. "Because for all intents and purposes, you are my stepson."


	27. Chapter 27

"Your stepson?" asked a bewildered Anion. "What are you talking about Hawke?"

"Your mother?" Emily investigated. "Her name was Raina wasn't it?"

The young elf nodded with confusion. "But how did you know? I do not think I ever revealed her name to you."

The older mage took the healer's hand into hers. "Because your father told me about her."

"You know who he is?" Anion queried. "But why did you not tell me before?"

Emily shook her head. "I'm sorry, Anion. I would have told you, but I just figured it out myself."

The young man's eyes darted back and forth across the floor next to his feet as he let the older mage's words sink in. After several moments, his focus returned to the woman standing in front of him. The expression he wore was one of both wonder and relief, as if he was about to finally find out who he really was.

"I have a million questions, falon." he proclaimed. "As I told you before, my mother spoke very little about him. She never even told me his name."

Emily smiled warmly. "His name was Anders" she began. "He was without a doubt the best healer I have ever met, and that's saying a lot because my father was an exceptional healer as well."

"You said that I am your stepson?" Anion inquired. "You were married to my father then?"

The dark-haired woman sighed. "We were engaged to be married, but we lived together and shared a bed for over three years. I would like to think I knew him better than anyone else did."

The elf's blue eyes glistened. "You speak of him as if he is in the past…I take it then that he-"

Emily nodded. "Yes, he fell just after the Battle of Kirkwall." She ran her fingers across his smooth cheek. "You look like him, you know? The same color hair, the same nose and jaw…in fact the only real difference is the color of your eyes and your height."

"He was tall?"

"Yes, he was…nearly six and half feet actually." chuckled the woman. "Which probably accounts for the fact that you are the tallest elf I have ever seen."

"And his eyes?"

"They were warm amber" she explained wistfully.

"Was he…a good man?" Anion asked with apprehension.

Emily heaved a sigh. "I think that he was, but others might not agree with me."

"What do you mean?"

"Years ago," the older mage began "your father was conscripted into the Grey Wardens. He had just run away from the Tower of Magi for what he told me was the thirty-second time. As usual, he was captured and was once again being taken back to the tower. The three templars who were escorting him decided to stop at Vigil's Keep near Amaranthine for the night, when the Keep was attacked by darkspawn. After the templars were killed by a group of the creatures, Anders managed to survive by using a flame spell on them. Just as the last beast in the room fell to the floor the warden commander burst through the door on her way to the roof. He explained to her what happened and offered to help drive the darkspawn from the Keep.

Almost immediately after the last creature was killed, the queen's royal troupe arrived at the Keep. Anora was accompanied by a templar lieutenant named Rylock who recognized your father right away. Rylock ordered that Anders be handed over immediately to face execution for murdering the three templars that died. He thought he was done for, but the commander made the decision to conscript your father.

Needless to say, Rylock was furious and later set a trap for Anders to try to take him into custody, defying both the queen and the Right of Conscription. Rylock didn't survive the attempt, however. The commander killed the lieutenant herself.

Anyway, to make a long story short, while Anders was with the Wardens, he met a Fade spirit named Justice who had become trapped in our world. Justice convinced your father that he needed to stand up to the templars and the Chantry and fight against the oppression of mages. The spirit also convinced Anders to allow him to possess your father's body."

Disbelief marred the young elf's face when Emily told him about Justice. "So my father was an abomination?"

The woman laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's not as simple as that, sweetheart…Unlike an abomination, Anders was able to maintain his own mind, at least most of the time. Every once in a while, the spirit would take over though and he would have to fight against it to regain control. I watched him struggle against that for many years. After he almost killed an innocent mage, he began to see Justice for what he had become. The benevolent spirit had developed into the demon of Vengeance.

It wasn't long after that happened that we began our relationship and for the next three years, Anders was able to keep pretty tight control over the demon. But in the last six months before Anders died, Vengeance took over almost completely and its desire for retribution consumed both the spirit and the man."

"What do you mean?" Anion asked in a low voice. "What happened?"

Emily let out another long sigh before biting her lip. "Do you know anything about what happened in Kirkwall?"

"Do you mean the mage rebellion?" the young man questioned. "I heard that it started because an apostate destroyed the Chantry."

The dark-haired mage nodded. "Yes…that apostate was Anders."

Anion gasped at hearing that the blame for the events in Kirkwall fell at his father's feet. "But why?...Why would he do such a thing?"

"Part of me wants to believe that it was because the spirit made him do it," she replied "but if I'm being honest with myself I know that's not true. I think Justice convinced Anders that destroying the Chantry was his only option left to enact change, to make a difference. It was a desperate act by a desperate man.

Several people, including Fenris, thought that I should have executed him for what he did, but I couldn't do that. Mainly because I loved him and I knew better than anyone what he was really like, but also because, as twisted as it was, I kind of saw the logic behind it. So, when Meredith called for the Circle's annulment, I asked him to fight at my side to protect the mages of Kirkwall.

In the end, it was discovered that Meredith was under the influence of an idol made from pure lyrium that we retrieved from the Deep Roads which caused her to behave erratically."

Emily could see the tears in the young elf's eyes when he asked, "How did he die?"

Remembering everything and seeing how her story had affected her lost lover's son was almost more than the gifted woman could bear. She had to choke back her own sorrow before she could answer the question that Anion had posed.

"He was stabbed by a poisoned blade during the battle and fell at the foot of Sundermount." she finally managed with a whisper. "The last words he spoke to me were 'I love you.'"

With that, Emily lost control of her emotions again and it took her a few minutes to realize that Anion was hugging her. "Ma serannas na era." he murmured in her ear. "Ir abelas, mamae."

"Ma serannas, da'len." she said as she embraced him tighter. "But you don't have to call me that."

The elf's words were sincere, almost childlike when he responded to what Emily said. "I would like to…if you do not mind."

The older mage sniffed before grinning. "I don't mind, Anion. If you're sure."

"Ma serannas." he told her again.

Emily heard the sound of a man clearing his throat behind her. "Am I interrupting?" growled Alistair.

* * *

To say that Alistair was upset would have been a grave understatement. Only moments before, he went from being happier than he ever remembered to having the stabbing pain in his chest of another Amell woman breaking his heart. And the worst part was, he knew better. He had learned almost eight years ago that love wasn't real. It was simply a stupid infatuation that another could use you with in order to get what he or she wanted. Women were obviously nothing more than cold, calculating shrews.

The prince found Emily standing entirely too close to the young elf whom everyone said looked like her dead boyfriend. His heart sank immediately into his gut. He didn't want to believe what he was seeing. There had to be another explanation, so he stood back and listened.

The first thing he heard was the witch calling the young elf "sweetheart." Alistair tried to come up with another explanation for her to do that, but of course, there wasn't one. He then listened as she told Anion all about Anders, how he was possessed by some spirit turned demon and how she couldn't kill him when he blew up the Chantry. She ended the story by telling the younger man how Anders died and then Anion took her in his arms and whispered something to her in his native language.

Alistair just couldn't believe that the same story Emily couldn't tell him the night before, she had just revealed to Anion. He wondered if the poor boy knew what a lying manipulative snake the woman he was holding was. To make matters even worse, she didn't even act the least bit worried or ashamed when he made his presence known. She simply wiped the tears from her eyes, let go of the elf and smiled at him.

"Alistair" she exclaimed as if she were happy to see him. "Are you all packed and ready to go?"

"Yeah" he snapped. His jaw tightened.

"Is something wrong?" she questioned innocently. She was a damned good actress, he had to give her that.

"No" he huffed.

She seemed confused by his attitude. "You seem angry."

"Caught that did you?" he snarked. "Wow, you must be some kind of genius or something."

"Do not talk to her in that manner." Anion demanded. "You have no right."

"It's okay Anion." Emily reassured the elf. She returned her full attention to the prince. "What is this all about, Alistair?"

He shook his head angrily. "Look Hawke, I know that most people look at me like I'm some sort of imbecile, but I assure you I am not. I'm also not blind. I caught you, red-handed and you know it."

The brunette's face took on an expression of impatience as well as bewilderment. "Caught me?" she exclaimed. The sound of her voice began to grow louder. "What in the bloody hell are you talking about? Caught me doing…" All at once, the answer seemed to dawn on her and she began to laugh.

"Don't laugh at me, bitch." he hissed.

Her giggling ceased and her face turned red with rage. "You didn't really just call me that." she sneered. "Please tell me that you didn't just say what I think you did."

"What's the matter, Hawke?" he retorted. "You deaf on top of being a demon's whore?"

Before he could even blink, she had crossed the distance between them and slapped him across the face hard enough to make his knees buckle. He grabbed his jaw and when he looked up at her he could see fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Take it back." she whispered menacingly. "You take that back right now, or I will _never_ forgive you Alistair Theirin."

No matter how angry and hurt Alistair was, he still cared for Emily and he couldn't bear to see the pained expression his words had caused her. He straightened himself and pulled at the tunic he was wearing. "I am sorry, Hawke." he told her. "My words were cruel and uncalled for. I just don't like being made a fool of."

Emily turned to the healer standing behind her who had busied himself by glaring daggers at the prince. "Anion, can you give us a moment alone please?" she requested.

The younger mage nodded. "Sure. I'll be in the galley if you need me for anything mamae."

Alistair searched the recesses of his memories. He knew that word from somewhere, but he just couldn't place it. Before he had time to dwell on it too much, however, Emily's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"I'm not sure what upsets me more." she began with an icy tone. "That you actually think that I would be with someone so much younger than me or that I am such a horrible person that I would be capable of doing something like that after the things we talked about last night." She sighed. "You are not an imbecile Alistair, but you are acting like an idiot. Except for my outer appearance, I have never given you a reason to believe I'm anything like my cousin and that's merely an accident of birth. I care for you a great deal, and I understand that you have a hard time trusting others after what Erin did to you. But I assure you, you can trust me.

Now if you really want to know what that was about…We figured out who Anion's father was."

Alistair swallowed down the rather large lump that had caught in his throat. "Who?" he breathed.

"It was Anders." she explained. "I could no more have romantic feelings for that boy than I could for my own child. For the Maker's sake, he's decided to call me mamae."

The prince remembered where he had heard the word and its meaning. "Mother." he acknowledged before wrapping his arms around Emily's shoulders. "You're right, I am an idiot. Can you ever forgive me Emily?"

She hugged him tighter. "I forgive you, Alistair, but this is the last time." she agreed before adding. "And just so you know, if you _ever_ call me a bitch or a whore again, I will feed you your own balls."

Alistair chuckled. "Duly noted." he acknowledged.

He lifted his eyes skyward. _Didn't I ask you not to let me screw this up?_ he questioned the Maker before kissing the top of Emily's head and breathing a sigh of relief. It was at that moment, Alistair realized that the reason he fell for Emily was that she was without a doubt the most amazing woman he had ever met. He made the decision, then and there to do everything he could to be the man that Emily needed, the man that she deserved.


	28. Chapter 28

Anion sat on the top step of the port side stairs leading to the helm, his forehead against the railing and staring out at the mainland passing by in the distance. His head was still spinning from the things Hawke had told him about his father. The young man still had so many questions that he didn't get the chance to ask. He wondered just how much Hawke would be willing to tell him about the man who sired him.

He had originally left her in Alistair's company and headed to the galley in case she needed him, but after over half an hour Anion assumed that they either worked out their differences or Hawke had killed the prince. Either way, she hadn't required the elf's help, so he decided to go topside.

The young healer thought about his years among the Dalish and how alone he always felt. Even Ghilya largely ignored him outside of his lessons. He remembered wishing that he could find his father so he could live with him, especially in the first few years after his mother passed away. Back then he always assumed that the man would just accept him and welcome him with open arms. He wondered how true that really was. If his father knew about him, would he have even wanted to get to know his son? Would he have cared? Did he even want children?

"There you are." rang a familiar voice from the bottom step. Anion turned his attention to the woman who was the closest thing to family he had in the world. She smiled up at him before ascending the staircase to sit at his side.

"I was just thinking about the things you told me about my father."

Hawke patted his right knee with her left hand and he noticed several thin black leather-bound notebooks lying across her thighs. "I have something for you."

The young man's brow creased. "For me?"

She nodded before transferring the tablets from her lap to his. "Isabela gave those to me along with a letter right after we boarded. She said that Anders handed them over to her for safe keeping just before things went to hell in Kirkwall. I think you should have them."

"What are they?" asked the healer with curiosity.

"Those are his personal journals and his manifesto. I thought they might give you a little more insight into who he was." she explained.

Anion ran his hand across the outside cover of the topmost book. The pages between those leather bindings held his father's thoughts and memories. He couldn't have asked for a better gift. "Thank you." he breathed. "But are you sure you want to give these away?"

Hawke smiled warmly as she placed her left hand over her heart and tapped her chest with her index finger. "I keep my memories of Anders in here. I don't need those books to help me remember him. Besides, I think he would have wanted you to have them."

The healer opened the top journal and ran his finger across the heavy scrawl on the first page. These were his father's actual words written in his hand. The left side of his mouth curled up in a wistful, crooked grin. Anion stole a glance at Hawke and she was beaming brightly as she watched him. Of all of the questions he had, there was one that he wanted an answer to above all others, especially after the gift he had just received and the words Hawke had just spoken.

"Do you think my father would have liked me?" he inquired with trepidation.

Hawke put a loving arm around his shoulder and gave it a warm squeeze. "I think he would have adored you. We tried to have a child in the last year that we lived together. Since he was a Grey Warden, we both knew that the taint in his blood would make it difficult, if not impossible to conceive a child." She removed her arm from around the healer's shoulder then leaned forward and began to pick at loose thread at the top of her boot.

She wore an anguished expression as she continued. "After only four months, we were both ecstatic when we found out that I was with child. Anders was so proud that he was actually going to be a daddy. He would even kiss my belly and talk to the baby. Then one day when I wasn't quite into my third month and he was working late at the clinic, I started having horrible pains. At first I tried to ignore them, but they just steadily got worse. I tried taking a warm bath and laying down, but nothing helped. When I noticed the blood I made my way to the clinic as fast as I could, but I was too late. As hard as losing my child was for me, I think Anders was even more devastated. He wanted to be a father so badly."

Hawke sat up straight again, turned to the young healer and brushed a stray tendril of blonde hair away from his face. "He would have been so proud of you, Anion."

"Do you really think so?"

"I'm absolutely sure of it." she nodded with a wistful smile. The younger mage could tell that she was trying to keep control of her emotions. He could also see how much Hawke loved his father. "There's something else."

Her chest rose and fell heavily as she took a deep breath and let it out before reaching for the staff that was lying behind them. Anion hadn't even been aware of its presence until she brought it around and placed it across his lap on top of the notebooks. He had noticed the staff the first time he saw her and he remembered thinking that he had never seen one quite so beautiful before. It was gold in color with a diamond pattern etched into its length. On its top was the figure of a nude woman looking skyward with outstretched arms. At her back, there was a semicircle that began to turn upward parallel to her head and stopped at two long prong-like points about two inches above.

"This originally belonged to my father." she explained. "When I was a little girl, he fashioned it from volcanic aurum and he worked on perfecting it until just before he died. Next to my mother and his children, it was his greatest treasure. My mother wasn't a mage, but she carried it from Lothering when we fled the village during the Blight. After she was killed, it came to me of course, but I never felt worthy of using it. Anders always reminded me a lot of my father, so I gave it to him on our first anniversary.

He carried it until the day he died. I have used it ever since, but I feel even less deserving of it now that _two_ great men have wielded it before me. This staff…it belongs in the hands of a healer. I want you to have it Anion. I think that both my father as well as yours would want that too."

Anion couldn't believe that Hawke would give him something that was so special to her. It was one thing to give him Anders' journals, but giving him her own father's staff…it was just too much. He shook his head. "I cannot accept this-"

Hawke held up a hand to cut him off. "Yes you can, and you will. I won't take no for an answer."

The young man gripped the weapon tightly and instantly felt a warm sensation flow from the diamond pattern in his palm, up his arm and throughout the rest of his body. He had never gotten a sensation like that before from any staff, not even Ghilya's.

A knowing grin spread across Hawke's face. "You felt it didn't you?" Anion slowly nodded, his eyes wide in amazement. "Anders told me it was like immersing himself in a warm bath, palm first. I don't know how my father did it, but somehow he imbued the staff with creation magic. Since I didn't inherit a natural talent for that side of my gift from my father, I have never been able to get a sense of the staff's true power. Now that I know that you have, I know it was meant to be yours."

The healer ran his hand along the staff's length. His father had actually wielded that staff. Somehow that knowledge made the elf feel closer to the man who helped to give him life. Even so, he was still hesitant to take it from Hawke. He understood why she would give it to Anders since they had shared their lives together, but Anion had no real ties to her.

"But it was your father's. I am certain he would want it to stay in his own family."

Hawke took hold of the young mage's hand, her emerald orbs staring intently into his. "I'm sure he would…that's why I'm giving it to you. You and I…we're the closest thing to family that either one of us has anymore. I know that you are not _that _much younger than me, but since you are Anders' son, I will always think of you as my son as well and I will always be here for you."

Anion felt his eyes stinging and squeezed his lids tight for a moment to prevent dampening his cheeks. Not since his mother died had anyone seemed to care for him as much. Before he boarded the ship, Ghilya told him that she had always thought of him as a son, but she honestly never treated him as such. Hawke however, genuinely seemed to care about him even before she found out who his father was. He realized that what he originally thought was a budding romance was actually something completely different. It was about compassion and friendship…it was about family.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Thank you mamae. I promise to take good care of your gift and I will treasure it always."

She took his face in her hands. "I know you will, Anion. I hope that it always serves you well." Upon saying those words, the older mage stood and stared out at the expanse of water over the bow. "It looks like we're headed toward land now. Someone should probably wake up Isabela."

Without another word, Hawke headed down the stairs and straight to the captain's quarters. Once she had disappeared through the door, Anion gently placed the staff at his side, opened the first notebook and began to read.

* * *

The first thing Isabela did when the Siren's Call docked in Jader was split the ship's previous profits among her crew, giving the quartermaster and the bosun a hefty bonus to remain near the vessel while she was away. Next, she went ashore to barter with the harbormaster in order to secure anchoring for the ship in Jader. While the captain was conducting her business, the rest of the companions that were part of the Lothering expedition headed into the village in order to get the supplies they would need for traveling.

Emily was relieved to find that no one seemed to pay the strangers any mind as they walked around the small harbor town. The first stop they made was to the blacksmith to get Alistair new armor. The king's armor that Teagan had sent him didn't quite fit anymore, but even if it had they all knew that it would have made him very conspicuous and that was the last thing they wanted as they trekked around Ferelden. Fortunately, the smith had enough pieces on hand that fit the prince with only a few minor adjustments.

As they waited for the armor's alterations to be completed, they secured the rest of the gear they needed from the general store. When they were finished with their shopping and Alistair's armor was ready, they headed to the Twin Tankard Inn to grab a bite to eat and wait for Isabela. Emily was happy to find that even though the tavern had a generous offering of Orlesian fare, Jader was close enough to the border that they offered some traditional Fereldan foods as well.

Just as the barmaid brought their ales, Isabela came walking through the door and sat down at the table looking slightly miffed.

"What's wrong Izzy?" Emily inquired.

"That damned harbormaster is a troll." she huffed. "He knew he had me over a bloody barrel the moment I walked into his office."

"What happened?" prodded the mage.

"Well, first I used nature's bargaining tool." she told them with a look of absolute disgust. "Honestly, the way he smelled it should have been enough to secure port until winter, but of course he wanted more. After promising the remainder of the Antivan rum, my last two boxes of Anderfels chocolates, all of the coin in my purse and another quickie on our return I finally talked him into giving us sixty days."

Alistair shook his head. "Sixty days doesn't give us a whole hell of a lot of time, Isabela."

"Do you have any better ideas princey?" the captain retorted with a grimace. "Because other than my ship and opening a vein to let that asshole bleed me dry, I gave him everything of value that I own."

"We'll just have to make the best of the time we have." Emily reasoned. "It simply means travelling more hours and sleeping less. Before we leave the inn, I'll make sure to get food that we can eat while on the move so we can break camp early and cut out the need to stop for meals during the day."

"I suppose that will work." the prince conceded reluctantly. "Seeing as we don't really have a whole lot of options here."

"Thank you Isabela." the dark-haired mage offered before kicking Alistair's shin under the table which caused him to jump.

"Yes, thank you Isabela." he scowled while rubbing his sore leg. He then turned to Emily. "That really hurt." he whined in a low voice.

She leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Maybe next time you'll learn to mind your manners."

"You are a cold, heartless woman." he smirked.

"And you love me for it." she countered just before she kissed the tip of his nose making him chuckle. Fenris sounded out with a loud _ugh _while Isabela began making gagging noises.

"I'm all for romance," she proclaimed with a revolted frown "but you two are making my teeth hurt."

"Agreed" Fenris added, crossing his arms.

"Sorry." Emily smiled sheepishly at her friends.

* * *

Alistair couldn't contain his own boyish grin upon seeing their companions' reactions. He had never before met a woman who was as openly affectionate as Emily. She allowed him to hold her hand as they walked through the village, much to Fenris's chagrin of course, and even rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek when he suggested that they buy a few supplies that Emily had forgotten.

The prince reached out and squeezed her delicate hand under the table which garnered him one of the mage's flirtatious smiles. He inhaled deeply as he gazed into her emerald-green eyes. He was aware of the sound of voices around him, but he didn't hear a word. He had become completely lost in her beauty. The logical part of his brain was crying out for him to stop or at least slow down before things went too far, but the beating of his heart drowned out the noise turning the din into nothing more than a faint murmur.

His vision was suddenly assaulted by a pair of tanned fingers clicking right in front of his eyes. "Hey!" Isabela shouted bringing Alistair out of his trance. "Wake up your highness. You can make puppy eyes at Hawke later. Right now, though, you need to hurry up and eat your food so we can get south of Orzammar before nightfall. "

Alistair waggled his head a bit before the pirate's words registered. A glance around the table made him realize that everyone was staring at him…everyone but Emily who was trying to stifle a laugh as she stuck her fork between her lips. He could feel his face turn crimson as he leaned over and whispered in the mage's ear. "Very funny."

The green-eyed brunette bit her lips and the prince could see her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. Every time she noticed him even glimpsing in her direction after that, he could see that it was taking a great effort on her part to suppress a chuckle.

When they were finished with their meal, Isabela suggested that Alistair charm the serving girl into allowing him access to one of the upstairs rooms so he could don his armor. Upon hearing the pirate's suggestion, Emily's expression transformed from mirth to agitation and the prince caught sight of more than a hint of jealousy in her eyes.

"Don't bother." the mage huffed as she got up and walked toward the bar. A few minutes later, she reappeared and tossed a key onto the worn wooden table right in front of Alistair. "Up the stairs, take a left, first room on the right." she informed him.

"Thanks sweetheart." he smirked. As he walked past her, he took her by the hand and began leading her up the steps. She tried to resist by pulling away, but reluctantly agreed when he stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. Once they were upstairs, Alistair led her into the room she had just paid for, closed the door and pulled her in close.

"You have no idea how badly I needed to be alone with you." He murmured as he nipped at her earlobe.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather be up here with the barmaid?" she queried, half-heartedly trying to pull away.

Alistair placed his hand on Emily's cheek and turned her bewitching green eyes to meet his. The left corner of his mouth turned up into a crooked grin and he caressed the tip of her nose with his. "You're not jealous are you?"

She scowled playfully. "Of course not. Don't be ridiculous."

"Is it ridiculous?" he prodded. "Because from where I'm standing, it seems like you might be just a little bit jealous."

Emily moved her right hand up and began running her fingertips through his blonde hair. "And why wouldn't I be jealous?" she asked sweetly. "_You _are an extremely handsome, strong and intelligent man. I consider myself a very lucky woman indeed to have caught your eye."

Alistair kissed her lips softly before pressing his forehead to hers. "You've not only caught my eye, dear lady" he whispered "Your beauty has blinded me to all others."

Emily beamed brightly, her eyes sparkling like polished gemstones. "You keep saying things like that and I might just have to keep you." she purred.

"Like I'm giving you a choice." he breathed hoarsely as he closed the distance between their lips once more. Just as he felt her tongue brush against his, there was a knock at the door.

He exhaled loudly while turning his eyes to the ceiling and shaking his head. "What is it Isabela?" he called out with annoyance before whispering in Emily's ear. "The Maker certainly blessed that woman with the gift of terrible timing." The prince's words made the mage giggle quietly as the pirate captain opened the door.

"Do you mind if I talk to his royal highness alone, Hawke?"

Emily seemed confused by her friend's request, but agreed with a shrug. Once the door was closed behind the mage, Isabela approached Alistair and pressed her body against his.

"What's this all about, Isabela?" he asked with puzzlement.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled his ear with her soft lips. "Do you remember when I told you that if you hurt Hawke again I'd slit your throat?"

Alistair tried to pull away but the pirate held on tighter. He nodded silently. In a flash he felt her leg jerk and a horrendously sharp pain starting at his groin and shooting through his entire body dropped him to his knees. He couldn't see anything. He couldn't even catch a breath from the agony the captain's knee inflicted upon him.

After a few minutes, he was finally able to make out a few blurry shapes in the room just in time to see the toe of a boot coming toward him. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable impact that never came. Instead, the pirate put just enough pressure against Alistair's forehead to push him over onto his back.

He opened his eyes once again to see her squatting over him, forearms resting on her thighs and hands dangling between her knees. She arched a brow. "You're just lucky you apologized. If it happens again, you _won't_ be so fortunate."

With that, she stood and walked out the door, leaving Alistair to wonder how in Andraste's name he was going to be able to get his armor to fit over his swollen testicles.


	29. Chapter 29

Emily returned to the table downstairs where she and her friends had just finished their meal to find Anion sitting alone.

"Where's Fenris?" she inquired while inspecting the room around them.

"I am not sure." shrugged the healer. "He just said to tell you that he had some business to attend to in the village and he would be back shortly."

"Hmm." the dark-haired mage thought aloud. "That's odd."

It wasn't unusual for Fenris to just take off on his own, in fact it was rather normal for the warrior. What Emily thought was strange about his actions were the facts that he was aware that they were in a bit of a hurry, he had not even a copper to his name, and she was certain that he knew no one in the village of Jader outside of the ship's crew and the five of them who were traveling to Lothering.

She waggled her head in confusion for only a moment, before taking a seat next to Anion to finish her ale. A few minutes later, Emily spotted Isabela descending the stairs alone and she assumed that Alistair was busy putting on his armor. The mage didn't know what took place between the prince and the captain, but she had the sneaky suspicion it had something to do with what Alistair said to her in a fit of jealousy.

Emily couldn't help but smirk as she took a drink from her mug. Part of her felt bad for Isabela exacting revenge on Alistair, but at the same time…well, he deserved it dammit. It was just one of the perks of having a rough and tumble big sister. Other than the incident with the tome, ever since Emily met the pirate, Isabela had always looked out for her like a big sister.

Twenty minutes after Isabela arrived back to the table, Alistair came downstairs fully dressed in armor and hobbling while holding onto his gut. The wincing expression of being in excruciating pain that he wore made Emily feel ashamed of herself. The prince gingerly sat down and his head fell forward onto the table almost immediately.

Anion's face was sympathetic as he placed a gentle hand on the small of other man's back and closed his eyes. Emily recognized the silver-blue aura emanating from the young mage's palm and after only a few minutes, she noticed Alistair breathe a sigh of relief. The prince sat up and gave the elf a grateful nod before shooting a dark look at Isabela.

"And where did our broody friend get off to?" he inquired as his hazel eyes scanned his surroundings.

"Anion said that he had some kind of business to attend to." Emily responded.

The prince screwed up his face in thought. "Hmm." he mused "I don't suppose we can just leave him here?"

"Alistair!" chided the mage while shaking her head.

He shrugged. "Just a suggestion."

Thirty minutes and two ales later, Fenris finally burst through the tavern door, sword in hand and muttering curses under his breath. The expression he wore was one of both rage and fear. It was a look that Emily recognized right away because it was the same one that the elf had when he learned that Hadriana was in Kirkwall looking for him. Something was definitely wrong.

The silver-haired warrior tossed his claymore onto the table, knocking several mugs to the floor in the process, leaned over and gripped the wooden slab tightly. "Fasta Vass!" he swore with a worried scowl, his eyes darting back and forth across the oak surface below.

"Bad news I take it?" Alistair asked sardonically.

Emily delivered a disapproving glare at the prince before addressing her old friend. "What happened Fenris?"

The elf exhaled resonantly and shook his head. "Well, the good news is that I was able to buy us ten more days."

"What?" Isabela interjected loudly with an infuriated grimace. "You mean to tell me that I had sex with that stinky bastard when all I had to do was send you over to scare the shit out of him?"

"Apparently," replied Alistair "but I suppose that's what comes from using _nature's bargaining chip _first."

"Oh shut up." the pirate retorted, crossing her arms and sticking her tongue out at the prince like a small child.

"Oh yes," quipped the prince "very mature _Captain_."

"Will you two just shut it?" Emily bellowed. "Honestly…" She returned her attention to Fenris who was practically snarling at the interruption. "I take it that there's some bad news attached to that tidbit of information as well?"

The elf shoved himself back from the table. "Yes…the reason the harbormaster wouldn't give us more time is because he has to have all ships cleared from the port before the Imperial Archon's visit on the tenth of Solis."

"But, why would the Archon come to Orlais?" Isabela asked with bewilderment.

"He isn't really coming to Orlais." Fenris explained with surprising patience. "Jader is right on the Ferelden border and it is the closest port to Orzammar that is large enough to dock a frigate."

The pirate chewed at her bottom lip for a long moment. "That makes sense I suppose."

Alistair scratched the back of his head before slumping down in his chair. "That means that the Imperium will have the dwarves on their side."

"You don't know that for sure." Emily argued.

"I hate to agree with him," Fenris broke in "but Alistair is correct. The dwarves will side with the Imperium. It would not make sense for them to do otherwise. Right now, the Chantry controls the lyrium trade with Orzammar. If the magisters allow free trade, the dwarves stand to make a heftier profit. It will also cut out smuggling and black market trading."

"Not to mention the fact that King Bhelen absolutely _adores_ Erin." the prince added, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "She was the one who put him on the throne. He owes everything to her…and he knows that I personally supported Harrowmont as ruler."

And how does he know that?" Isabela pried.

Alistair sighed. "To make a long story short, Erin convinced not only Harrowmont but me as well that she was backing him for the throne. Just before walking into the assembly where she was to announce the Ancestors' choice for the next king, I got stupid and opened my mouth."

"What do you mean?" the pirate prodded.

"I might have said something to Vartag, Bhelen's second, about how the prince was going to be disappointed because a better ruler was about to take the crown." he confessed before adding. "I had no idea that Erin was going to turn on Harrowmont the way she did."

"The more I hear about this Erin Amell, the less I like her." Anion remarked.

The others, including Emily, chimed in with their agreement which caused Alistair to chuckle bitterly to himself. As disturbing as the news was regarding the Tevinter leader and the dwarves, Emily knew Fenris well enough to discern that there was another, more personal reason behind his distress. She was also a bit mixed up about the extra time the elf said he had garnered for them and the date of the Archon's arrival.

"Fenris?" she questioned. "If the Archon isn't arriving until the tenth, doesn't that give us an extra fifteen days?"

The elf's shoulders slumped and he hung his head low, moving it from side to side. "I would like to be long gone from this place before Archon Acanthus arrives." A quizzical stare from Emily bade him to continue. "Acanthus was a personal friend of Danarius. I cannot count the number of times the Archon offered to buy me. He would even jest that he was going to steal me from my master. Danarius promised that I would come to Acanthus if tragedy struck…I am afraid that if the Archon sees me walking around free, he might try to capture me."

Emily stood and took her friend's hand. "Don't worry Fenris." she assured him. "If that bastard wants you, he'll have to come through me."

Alistair rose to his feet as well. "And me."

"And me." Anion added with a small jerk of his head.

Isabela smirked as she got up from her chair. "Oh hell, why not…count me in too."

As Fenris's eyes fell upon the other four people standing around him, Emily noticed something change in his expression. No one but her had ever stood up for Fenris before, not like that and the mage could see that the elf was humbled by their gesture.

"Thank you." he muttered quietly.

* * *

Despite the late start, the five companions made good time and found themselves south of Orzammar's entrance by nightfall. Good to her word however, Hawke insisted that they keep pushing their way through well after dark. Even though they brandished torches to help them traverse the blackness, travelling after sunset that near the Deep Roads proved perilous when they found themselves fighting off several bands of darkspawn. Fenris finally found a use for Alistair when the former Grey Warden was able to detect the creatures before they had a chance to ambush the small company under cover of darkness.

It was near midnight when they finally found a clearing to start a fire. The group had decided on taking turns with cooking the one hot meal they would be getting every day and Alistair happened to have been picked first to be the chef. As he busied himself at the fire, the others set up their tents as quickly as they could. Soon after the making of camp was completed, it was time for them to eat.

Fenris was quite apprehensive about the contents heaped on his mess kit's metal plate, but he was famished enough to at least try a bite. Even though the gray mass looked like something that someone had just vomited up, it actually didn't taste half bad. In fact, it made him wish that he and Alistair could just take turns with the duty of making the meals.

He wasn't sure about Anion, but he knew first-hand that the two women in their party had absolutely no skill in the culinary arts. In the last few months of being alone in the Vinmarks with Hawke, he would volunteer for cooking every night and when he became ill he managed to live on hard tack bread most days. It wasn't that the mage didn't try, she just couldn't seem to manage to make anything that tasted remotely like food. It was on those nights that Fenris actually found himself missing Anders. For all of the man's faults, he was definitely the most skilled of their group when it came to food preparation.

Fenris looked up from his meal and noticed that Hawke was doing her best to keep a smile on her face as the prince dumped the concoction on her plate. "Thanks" she managed before she walked over to the fire, sat down on the ground and hesitantly began pushing the stuff around with her fork.

Isabela, of course, was more vocal in her misgivings. "What the hell do you call this?" she scowled. "Mabari shit special?"

Alistair rolled his eyes. "If you don't like it, you can always starve."

"That might be preferable." muttered the pirate. She put the plate up to her nose and took an apprehensive sniff. "I guess it smells edible." She then glanced over at Hawke and shrugged. "Worth a shot I guess." she finally conceded. "Besides, even if it tastes as bad as it looks, it's still got to better than Hawke's cooking."

"Hey!" the dark-haired mage exclaimed in protest. "You have a lot of room to talk, _Captain_. The last time I ate anything you cooked, I had my head in a bucket for the better part of two days."

"I told you that wasn't my fault." protested the pirate. "Corff sold you some bad meat."

Fenris couldn't help but snicker. "They why is it when Anders made a stew from it the next evening it was fine?"

Isabela put her free hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. "He used magic to fix it…duh."

"Magic does not work that way, Isabela." Anion piped in.

The pirate threw her hand in the air in an irritated huff. "Fine." she conceded. "So I can't cook. So what? My talents lie in other areas that leave a man much more satisfied anyway."

Fenris smirked. "Yes, more people have sampled _that _fare than the cassoulet special at the Hanged Man." His words caused the other three to almost choke on their food before laughter broke out around the camp.

Isabela gave the elf an approving nod and a wry smile. "Nice to have you back, sweetie. It's about time."

The rest of the evening was fairly pleasant, albeit short. As they ate, they made pleasant conversation and after their meal, everyone but Fenris retired since he had first watch. He was more than a little surprised that Hawke and Alistair went to their separate tents after a short kiss.

No more than a half hour after everything had settled down, Fenris heard rustling coming from Hawke's tent just before her head appeared from the flap in the front. She tiptoed over to his side and plopped down right next to him.

"Couldn't sleep?" he inquired.

"No." she replied. "Too many things going through my mind…how are you doing?"

"Good."

"It's just that…I could tell how upset you were when you found out about the Archon." she observed.

Fenris drew a deep breath and let it out slowly before bending his upper body forward and staring into the fire. "The mere thought of becoming a slave again…it frightens me." he confessed. "The things that Danarius and Hadriana did to me…they still haunt my dreams."

Hawke reached out and began lightly massaging his lower back. "I'm sorry, Fenris. I wish that there was something I could do."

The elf turned his face to her and managed a sad smile. "Thank you, mal amica. But you have done more for me than I ever had the right to ask of you."

"You are my best friend Fenris." she told him as she brushed the hair from his brow. "You have been there for me, protecting me, standing by my side…through everything. I did nothing for you that you wouldn't have done for me in the same situation." She bumped his shoulder with hers. "And just to let you know, I agree with Isabela…It's nice to have you back. I've missed you."

Fenris, not normally being prone to any type of physical affection, slid his arm around Hawke's shoulder. Almost immediately, she reciprocated by scooting in closer and laying her head on his chest. Sometime after that, she fell asleep and the elf just sat there reveling in her warmth and the comfort of having her so near. He had to push down the feelings for her that were threatening to rise to the surface, but it was difficult.

He knew that Alistair had the next watch and when he heard the prince stirring, he kissed the top of Hawke's head before rousing her with a gentle shake. She sat up straight, yawned and stretched her arms wide while her emerald eyes tried to blink back the sleep in them. When Alistair finally appeared from his tent, his face broke into a wide grin as soon as he spotted Hawke and she immediately returned the gesture.

No matter how Fenris still felt about the mage, the way she and Alistair looked at each other told the elf that he had made the right decision. They were good for each other and the Prince of Ferelden could make her happy in a way that he never could. No matter how much Fenris still cared for Hawke, her happiness was what was important, even if it meant that she was happy with someone else.


	30. Chapter 30

Over the next week, the small band made their way south, sticking to the overgrown passes and trails at the foot of the mountain range. Other than finding the occasional need to backtrack when they reached a path they could not traverse, the trip had been fairly smooth all things considered. Every once in a while they would find themselves in a battle with wild animals or a small group of darkspawn here and there, but it was nothing they couldn't easily handle.

When they finally turned east into the Kocari Wilds, the sun was beginning to set at their backs and Fenris could tell that Alistair was starting to worry about running into the Chasind people who were native to that land. Hawke did her best to keep his mind at ease by taking turns at telling jokes with Isabela, but it didn't help very much. By the time they decided to look for a place to camp for the night, the prince was absolutely jumpy.

Suddenly, a loud scream split the darkness followed immediately by several more. The echoes of the cries blended together into a terrified chorus.

"It sounds like women and children." Alistair observed.

Hawke pivoted in a circle, trying to discern where the noise was coming from. "But why would a bunch of women and children be out in the woods at this time of night."

"It could be a trap, Hawke." offered Fenris.

"Possibly," she agreed "but what if it's not? It sounds as if those poor women are being tortured."

"So what do we do?" asked the elf.

Alistair pointed his sword toward a grove to the northeast of their position. "It sounds like it's coming from just beyond those trees. Trap or no, we should go quietly so as not to alert anyone to our presence until we know what's going on."

Hawke gave a sharp nod. "Agreed. Lead on Alistair."

Fenris's surprise at the mage's offer to allow the prince to lead their group was nothing compared to the look of shock on Alistair's face, but he recovered quickly from his confusion and gingerly stepped toward the copse. Of the five of them, Alistair was the only one who had a real problem with stealth. His size and the weight of his armor made it difficult for him to move as quietly as the others, but with the din of the screams covering his heavy footsteps, he managed without being detected.

In the clearing on the other side of the woods, they found the source of the commotion. A camp had been set up by almost a dozen soldiers dressed in Imperial armor. Near the trees, there stood a wooden prison wagon which held several women and children all dressed in primitive tanned leather and fur. Some of the children in the cart were no more than mere babes, but all of the women appeared to be elderly.

While scanning the camp, Fenris wondered to himself why the soldiers would capture only the very young and the very old, when he saw the answer. The younger women were spread out in the camp so the Imperials could take turns with them. The elf felt as if he might vomit when he realized that some of the females were not women at all, but barely more than girls-the youngest of which appeared to be no more than ten or eleven. It was all he could do to keep his rage in check enough to prevent his lyrium lines from glowing.

"Sick bastards." Isabela whispered from his left side.

Fenris expected Hawke to start giving commands in order to stop the madness, but was surprised when Alistair took control of the situation. He backed into the woods a bit more and motioned for the rest to follow suit.

"Anion," commanded the prince. "I want you to sneak around and untie those horses on the other side of the clearing. Isabela, you take the right flank. Fenris, you take the left and I will move in from here. Emily, as soon as the major offensive begins and while we have the soldiers busy, I want you to be ready at that cart and get those people out of there as quickly as possible. Once the caged women and children make it to safety, start casting spells at the enemy…same with you Anion, once the horses are freed, hit them with everything you've got."

The others all nodded their silent assent before Alistair continued giving his orders. "We have to be cautious so we don't put the lives of these women at risk. I think the best way to handle this is to take out as many as we can without being noticed by the others. Even if we only get three of them that way, we still reduce their number by over a quarter. Once everyone is in position, we move on my signal…let's go."

With that, they separated moving into their aforementioned posts. Fenris made his way to the left side of the clearing as quickly and quietly as possible. While he was waiting for a sign from the prince he spotted a soldier just inside the tree-line behind a nearby tent who had his pants around his ankles and was kneeling between the legs of an auburn-haired woman of about twenty-five. He knew he was supposed to wait for Alistair's signal, but seeing what was about to happen to the young female brought flashbacks of the abuses he suffered at the hands of his former master.

The elf couldn't bear the thought of watching that happen to anyone else, so without so much as a glance in the prince's direction he moved in on the rapist. Bending at the waist, he quickly glided over to the man who had just put the majority of his weight on his left forearm as his right hand reached down to guide his manhood into the seemingly impervious woman lying beneath him. Her eyes went wide when she saw Fenris drop down on his knee at the soldier's right. The warrior covered the man's mouth with his hand just before rolling over onto his back, pulling the brute with him. The only noise the soldier had time to make was a small gasp of surprise before Fenris slit the man's throat with the sharp dagger he kept hidden in his boot. Waves of thick, crimson fluid began to pour down on the elf as he flipped over to his right in order to throw the dead weight of the corpse off of him.

Just as he rose to his knees, he felt the tip of a blade threatening to dig into the top of his neck. He felt cold steel on his flesh as his would-be assailant pressed the flat of the dagger into his chin to urge him into a standing position. Fenris kept his eyes down, focusing on the knife in order to find an opening to remove it from his captor's hand. Once he was at his full height he turned his gaze from the blade to the face of its bearer and his eyes were met with the deep blue orbs belonging to the woman he had just rescued.

Her lids narrowed, limpid pools of cobalt suspiciously glaring into his core. "Who are you?" she softly hissed.

The warrior swallowed hard, causing the sharp point to jab into his skin even farther. "My name is Fenris." he explained in a calm whisper. He couldn't see what was happening in the camp, but he didn't hear the clanging of swords or the roaring of Hawke's magical fire. He wondered briefly if something happened to his friends, but his attention was drawn back to the woman with a dagger to his throat.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded hoarsely. "You are going to ruin everything."

"What are you talking about?" the elf asked with bewilderment. "I just rescued you."

Before Fenris realized what was happening, the woman's eyes darted to her left and with one fluid motion she shoved him back with her free hand and pivoted on the heel of her left foot until she had rotated almost a full three hundred and sixty degrees. The warrior hadn't even had time to hit the ground, when he saw the dagger fly from her hand and straight into the apple of the throat of an approaching soldier. Unfortunately, the victim was standing too near one of the tents and caused a tremendous crash when he fell into it which alerted everyone in camp that there was trouble.

The barbarian woman turned back to Fenris and held out her hand to help him from the ground.

"Blessed eidola, I hope you brought friends." she exclaimed impatiently. As she jerked him up, he couldn't help but notice the tautness of her bare muscular arms and shoulders. In fact, the warrior was quite amazed at the woman's strength, especially considering her small stature. At her full height, she stood several inches shorter than him. Even though he was tall for a full-blooded elf, he still stood at just under five and a half feet.

As she took off at a run toward the fray that had just broken out, she grabbed a longbow and quiver of arrows from the side of a nearby tent. She moved as lightly and quickly as a fox on the hunt as she began to target her prey while still on the run. Every shot she made hit its intended target and the battle ended almost as quickly as it began.

When Fenris finally caught up to the mysterious woman, she hurriedly knocked an arrow and placed the point against his brow. "As you can see, elf." she sneered. "I needed no assistance from you."

"Well, well, well." a haughty voice spoke up from the darkness at the other side of the camp. "I see that one of our barbarian prisoners isn't as helpless as my men believed."

Both Fenris and the woman turned to see a man dressed in elaborate silk robes with feather pauldrons decorating his shoulders and a finely handcrafted staff on his back. On either side of him was an Imperial soldier. One was holding a babe that was barely more than a year old and the other a small girl of around six or seven. The baby was screaming, but the sound was being muffled by a large hand being clamped over his mouth. The other child was being dragged along by her long brown hair. When the soldier stopped, he whipped the girl around and tucked her in close to his body before putting a blade to her throat. She was whimpering softly as large tears made tracks in the dirt on her cheeks.

"I am sure that you would not want these children harmed my dear." the bald mage said with an icy tone. "However, I am afraid if you do not comply I will have no choice." The archer closed her eyes, a defeated expression painted on her face, as she lowered her bow and then dropped it and the arrow to the ground. "And who is your friend, my sweet? From what I can see of him, he certainly does not appear to be one of your people." The strange mage stepped forward and used his hand to beckon Fenris to do the same.

As soon as the man stepped further into the light, the warrior's stomach dropped. "Sanctius." snarled the elf. He was older and had much less hair than the last time Fenris had seen him, but it was definitely him. Sanctius had been apprentice to a rival magister of Danarius in the Imperium's mageocracy.

The mage's eyes went wide before his lips curled into a cold smirk. "Fenris. My, but this is a small world." He shook his head and tsked. "I heard what you did to Danarius…naughty boy…but I suppose that is what happens when one is too easy on his slaves." Sanctius rubbed his bearded chin between his thumb and index finger. "Yes, you will certainly be a prize worth envy."

"I am surprised that Horace is not here." The elf remarked. His tone was even colder than the mage's. "I did not think it was possible for you to remove your head from his ass."

Sanctius chuckled vehemently. "Yes Fenris, you should probably release all of that anger and hostility while you are still able, but remember one thing…you _will_ pay for your insolence later." He folded his arms over his chest. "As for Horace, I am no longer his apprentice. He recommended me for advancement. You are now in the presence of the new arl of Redcliffe. I am a lord now, a magister in New Tevinter…at least that will be the title of this land by year's end."

At that moment, a rage washed over Fenris like he had never before felt. His lyrium lines glowed white hot and brighter than they ever had in the past. Without a thought to anything else around him, he pulled back his arm as he jumped up and leapt forward toward Sanctius, driving his luminous fist through the magister's skull. He allowed his muscles and bones to solidify long enough to crush the gray matter that he felt in his palm before pulling his hand back out.

The silver-haired warrior stood panting with his fury over the corpse of the man who would have enslaved him. He turned a menacing glare to the slack-jawed men who were holding the two young children hostage. The soldiers dropped their charges almost immediately and began running toward the wood line. Mere seconds passed before the first one dropped followed closely by the second, both with feather fletchings protruding from the hair at the backs of their heads.

The sounds of the youngest child's terrified wails rang out through the night sky as he stared up at the strange glowing elf standing over him. Hawke seemed to appear out of nowhere and scooped the child up in her arms to comfort him, while Anion bent down to calm the little girl. As Fenris's anger subsided, the lines in his skin faded to normal and he spied a stunned Alistair standing on his left.

"Holy shit." the prince breathed. "Remind me never to piss _you_ off."

The warrior's emotions were in a turmoil which for some reason caused Alistair's words to strike him as funny. He snickered and shook his head just before feeling a sharp point in the back of his skull.

"Who are you people?" he heard the auburn-haired woman ask from his back. Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, the pressure released from the back of Fenris's head and he heard a thud as the archer hit the ground.

Hawke handed her ward over to Alistair and stood above the Chasind female. "Actually, the better question is, who the hell are you?"


	31. Chapter 31

Emily had cast a paralysis spell on the woman who was looking up at her from the ground. The young barbarian wore an expression of anger to match Emily's, but the mage needed to be able to question the rogue. Emily released the spell on the stranger, but kept her guard up.

"What does it matter?" the woman replied bitterly. "You see all of my people the same way…We are just mindless, violent savages in your eyes."

"If that were true," Emily retorted "would we have been trying to help you?"

The mysterious archer shook her head. "Yes, because you want something from us. You are just like the Imperial dogs that captured us, the only difference is your method of persuasion. You want us to fight for you so you pretend to care about our plight because you think us ignorant of your ways."

The mage folded her arms over her chest. "And maybe the explanation is much simpler than what you believe. Maybe we came to your aid because it was the right thing to do."

"Northerners do not do_ anything_ for my people out of sheer kindness" the woman reiterated. "So tell me mage, did you not come to the Wilds seeking help from my people?"

Emily lifted her left shoulder casually. "Actually we are on our way to the ruins of Lothering. We decided to journey through the Wilds because we didn't want to be found."

The archer furrowed her brow in thought for a moment before addressing the strangers again. "I will take you at your word then…for now. I am Nadia, daughter to the chief of the western tree dwellers."

Emily held out her hand to help the rogue up from the ground, but Nadia refused it, choosing instead to stand on her own volition. The mage smiled warmly to try to put the woman at ease. "I am Emily Hawke, but most people just call me Hawke." She then pointed to each of her friends in turn as she spoke their names. "This is Fenris, Anion, Isabela and Alistair."

Nadia's lids narrowed. "Hawke?" she asked. "As in Malcolm Hawke?"

Emily was surprised to hear her sire's name from the strange woman. "Yes," she answered with trepidation. "Malcolm was my father…but how do you know of him?"

The archer seemed almost impressed. "Your father was a great man and well known among my people. He even saved my own father's life when he was stricken with the wasting. His healing magic saved the lives of many of my tribe. In my years, I have found that he has been the one and only exception to the selfishness of the Northerners."

Emily knew that Malcolm would sometimes leave home for days at a time, but no one in her family had any idea where he went. Nadia's words only helped to strengthen the mage's already tremendous respect for the man.

"If you are anything like your father," the rogue continued "perhaps it is as you say and you merely wanted to come to our aid. In that case, I am grateful."

Emily gave the woman a small nod. "We were happy to help."

"Hawke," Fenris interrupted. "I think that we should leave this place. There are bound to be more soldiers near and I would rather not be here when they find the corpse of a magister."

"You're right, Fenris." the mage agreed. "We need to get moving." She returned her attention to Nadia. "You and the others are welcome to join us. I think between the six of us, we can provide the protection these women and children need to see you all safely back home."

The rogue sighed heavily. "I am afraid it is not so simple, Hawke. Most of these people are not from my tribe, but belong to several others in the Wilds."

"Then I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other." Emily smiled. "It is not in me to just abandon innocents to their own fate."

Nadia appeared to be deep in thought for a long moment, obviously considering Emily's proposition. Her eyes moved to her kinswomen who were clearly frightened and confused. Finally she turned to the mage and offered her arm. "Then we shall be companions until it is finished."

Emily clasped the other woman's forearm and they shook on their arrangement. The mage knew that it was extra time that they really couldn't spare and she knew that travelling with all of the extra people would slow them down even more, but if she was going to have any chance of convincing the Wilders to join their cause she had to try. More importantly, though, it was the right thing to do.

Everyone but the youngest children, pitched in to help strip the Imperial camp. They made quick work of the job and before long, the only things left in the clearing were the corpses of the magister and the dead soldiers. They walked for nearly two hours through the forested wetland until they were relatively sure that they were far enough away from the Tevene bivouac site to be safe.

Once they were settled down for the remainder of the evening, Emily did a headcount and got some more information about the people that had come under the protection of the mage and her friends. Before they retired for the evening, she discovered that there were fifteen women and twelve children belonging to eight different tribes. Luckily, most of the settlements that they would need to visit were on the way to Lothering.

The next morning, it took them three hours longer than normal to break camp and get back on the trail. Emily also found that they had to make more frequent stops and covered less distance than what she and her four friends could have on their own.

It was near dusk when they made it to the first village. The mage wanted to move farther along toward their destination, but the clan's chief insisted they stay for the night and participate in the celebration of the return of their lost loved ones. Fortunately, Nadia convinced the tribal leader to provide warriors to escort her own people back to their land in order to avoid even further delays.

By the time the group reached the last village, not only had the five companions lost the extra time they had gained before they acquired their charges, they actually ended up forfeiting almost two weeks. However, what they acquired in the process was the gratitude of the Chasind tribes of the central and western regions of the Kocari Wilds.

Neither Emily nor any of her friends asked for anything in return for their kindness, in hopes that the Wilder tribes would volunteer to fight on their side. The mage hoped that even if the clans decided not to help them in the war effort, they would at least remain loyal enough not to side with Tevinter and the queen.

As with the other Wilder villages and settlements, the tribe's chief insisted that they stay the night in Skipdown Marsh to partake in the revelries. He also offered to outfit them with whatever supplies they needed the next morning.

After the feast, when everyone was settling in for the evening, Alistair took Emily by the hand and led her to the rope ladder of the community building where their bedrolls were set up for the night. When he made a gesture for her to descend the rungs, she cocked her head to the side and gave him a questioning stare.

He placed his hand on the nape of her neck and pulled her in close. "If I don't get some time alone with you soon, it's going to drive me absolutely mad." he whispered hoarsely into her ear.

Emily gave him a nod and a coy smile just before she began moving down the ladder to the ground below with the prince following close behind. Once they were both safely on the ground, he led her to a grove of trees several yards away from the stilted village. As soon as he was relatively sure that they were out of the sight of any prying eyes, Alistair gently pushed her against a tree and pressed his lips to hers.

His right hand moved up and pulled the ribbon loose from her hair letting it spill down over her shoulders while his left arm encircled her waist to bring them closer together. She felt his thumb against her right cheek as his tongue explored the inside of her mouth. After several minutes, he pulled back in order to stare into her emerald eyes. His breathing was uneven as he pressed his forehead against hers and gently began caressing her nose with his.

"Maker's breath, I've missed this." Alistair confessed in a low, raspy voice. "I don't think I could have gone another night without holding you in my arms."

His words brought a coquettish grin to Emily's lips. She had never hoped to find another man who was as affectionate with her as Anders had been, yet there he was in the flesh making her swoon like a schoolgirl. As she stared into Alistair's hazel eyes, Emily couldn't help but think about how lucky she was. No matter how much she tried to deny it to herself, no matter how much she tried to resist, she loved him. She would never tell him of course, not unless he said it first, but she couldn't help the way she felt. For the first time since Anders' death, she actually felt alive and every day with Alistair, mended her heart just a little bit more.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them, his hazel orbs were glistening and filled with a kind of apprehensive determination. "I need to tell you something." he whispered as he traced her full lips with his thumb. "Maker you would think I would be better at this at my age." he mumbled to himself.

"You know that you can tell me anything, Alistair." she reassured him in a gentle voice.

Her words garnered a nervous smile from the prince. He then licked his lips slowly before biting down on the bottom one and his hands moved down to collect her delicate fingers in his. She felt his thumbs massaging her fingers as he seemed to study them closely just before he shook his head and chuckled. "I have rehearsed exactly what I was going to say to you over and over again, and now that I've decided to do it, I can't remember a bloody word." Alistair's gaze returned to hers as he reached up and touched her cheek tenderly. "So I guess the only thing I can do is just tell you…I love you Emily. I have from the very first time I kissed you."

The mage beamed brightly and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Was it that bad?" Alistair asked. "It really wasn't my intention to make you cry or anything."

She laughed softly before pulling his forehead down to meet hers. "It wasn't bad at all." she grinned. "In fact, it was perfect…because I feel the same way about you."

"So you…?" he prodded playfully.

Emily took his face in both of her hands and searched his hazel eyes. "I love you too, Alistair Theirin."

* * *

Fenris watched Alistair lead Hawke out the door of the communal area before he laid down on the floor and closed his eyes. Even though he had encouraged the prince to be with Hawke, he found that it still bothered him. The mental images assaulting his brain when he shut his eyes didn't make things any easier either.

He sat up and peered out into the near-darkness that surrounded him. There was just enough light for him to recognize the other people who were still in the room. Anion was sitting against the wall at the far end of the room, a dim magical light emanating from his palm and, as usual, his nose stuck in one of his father's journals. As much as Fenris had hated Anders and as much as he wanted to dislike the mage's illegitimate son, he just couldn't. Over the course of the prior weeks in which he had gotten the chance to know the young healer, Fenris discovered that he actually liked Anion. Mercifully, other than his magical abilities, Anion was nothing like his sire. What Fenris had taken as smugness when he first met the younger man, he discovered was merely shyness. The boy was actually very intelligent and thoughtful and best of all, he didn't spend his time bitching about his lot in life or the plight of mages or elves.

Fenris's gaze moved to a large lump several feet from where the healer was sitting. Isabela had obviously partaken of too much of the tribe's homemade spirits, because the pirate had missed her bedroll by nearly a yard and was lying face down on the bare floor snoring loudly. Upon seeing her in that condition, the elf had to shake his head and chuckle. Sometimes he wondered how it must be to live in Isabela's boots. She was carefree, grossly irresponsible most of the time and nearly always spoke her mind. Yet, there was something beneath the surface that she kept hidden away from everyone else, masking it with crude humor, sarcasm and wantonness. The one good thing Fenris could say about the captain was that she loved Hawke almost as much as he did. She looked out for the mage, and with the exception of that mess with the Qunari, she seemed to always have Hawke's best interests at heart.

The warrior's deep green eyes moved on to the corner at his left and were met with the sapphire orbs their newest traveling companion. She seemed to be studying him with great intensity as if she were analyzing his very essence. She was a complete mystery to Fenris. Over the short amount of time that she had been travelling with them, she rarely spoke to anyone, including her own people and when she did she seemed angry and aloof. He knew that there had to be something more to her hatred of anyone outside her tribe, and he found himself extremely curious to know what it was. After the things he had endured, the elf normally cared nothing for the suffering of others, but for some reason that he couldn't quite discern, he wanted to hear Nadia's story.

Suddenly, she stood and began walking toward him and Fenris's heart skipped a beat. _What in the bloody hell? _he thought. No one other than Hawke had ever given him a feeling like that. In seconds, she was standing over him, staring at him through narrowed lids. Out of habit borne from years of needing to size up his opponents before battle, he quickly scanned her body from her face to her feet and back again.

She was very lithe, especially for a human. Her body was comprised of lean muscle, seemingly without even an ounce of fat. Most of what little height she possessed came from her powerfully built legs, which were completely bare up to her thighs. What little of her bottom half that was clothed was covered with a short piece of thin tanned leather that was tied with a thick string at the top of her left hip. Her toned stomach was bare from just under the tiny gold ring of her pierced navel up to a thick band of leather cinched tightly over her small breasts with two thinner leather straps that went from the top of the band in front on either side, over her shoulders and attached at the top of the band in back. Her auburn locks cascaded down her back in waves that made Hawke's hair look absolutely straight by comparison, and her bangs were averted from her eyes by two thin braids that loosely framed her delicate face.

"You stare at me as if I am a piece of meat being readied for the slaughter, elf." Nadia hissed.

Fenris averted his eyes to the floor next to him. "I apologize. It was not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable."

She cautiously sat down in front of him, tucking her small feet under her. "I suppose I owe you an apology as well…for trying to kill you when we met."

"It was understandable." he said. "You did not know me."

"I also neglected to thank you" she continued "for attempting to rescue me."

"You seemed very angry about it at the time." observed the elf.

"Yes, I was." Nadia confessed. "Imperial soldiers had been capturing the most helpless of my people all along the northern border for weeks."

"To what end?" questioned Fenris. "Was it their intention to enslave them?"

The rogue shook her head. "Not really. You see, there were several of those mages like the one you killed at the camp…what did you call him?"

"Magister." he replied.

"Several magisters came to speak with the tribal chiefs to convince them to give their allegiance to Tevinter." she explained. "When the elders refused, the mages sent soldiers to capture my people in order to convince the chiefs to comply. When I learned that some of the people from my own tribe had been taken, I allowed myself to be caught as well so I could rescue them."

Fenris wasn't sure if what the woman had planned was courageous or insane. "Why would you do that on your own though? Why not get someone to help you?"

"I did not want to risk anymore of my people." she told him. "Besides, a lone woman in the Wilds would raise less suspicion. I knew from experience what those soldiers would do to those women. I also know that distracted men with their breeches around their ankles are easier to take down. That man you killed? I lured him into the trees away from the others telling him that I wanted him all to myself. Once I got rid of that pig, picking off the rest would have been easy. I had taken his knife from his belt before he removed his pants and hidden it behind my head. I was just about to slit his throat myself when you appeared."

Nadia's confidence in her abilities overwhelmed Fenris a bit. He mulled over her words for a moment and pondered what she meant when she said she knew what the soldiers would do from _personal experience_. The woman's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"I noticed that you and that…magister seemed to know each other and you speak as they do. Are you an Imperial as well?"

The warrior picked at a piece of lint that was stuck to his bedroll. He was ashamed of the fact that he was once a slave and wondered what the rogue would think of him when he told her the truth. He exhaled loudly. "I am from Tevinter, but I was never considered an Imperial citizen…I was a slave."

"And you killed your master?"

"Yes." he nodded. "With Hawke's help."

Nadia shook her head in bewilderment. "I do not understand her. Most Northerners do not think twice about the suffering of others, choosing only to care for themselves and their own needs. Yet she goes out of her way to help strangers. My people would say that she is an eidolon disguised as a woman to test the creatures she walks among."

"An eidolon?"

"A spirit of the dream world" explained the rogue.

"No," the warrior snickered "trust me, Hawke is no spirit nor is she a saint. She has faults just like anyone else…but she strives to be a good person and she has a benevolent heart. That is what makes her so unique."

Nadia cocked her head to the side and seemed to study the elf for several minutes. "You have love for her. I have seen it many times since travelling with you. She does not reciprocate your feelings?…or does she not know?"

Fenris swallowed back a lump in his throat. "I would rather not speak about this."

The archer bobbed her head knowingly. "She does not reciprocate." She stood. "I have enjoyed our talk, Fenris. Perhaps we can speak like this again soon."

Without waiting for a reply, she pivoted on the balls of her small bare feet and returned to her own pallet. She turned her back to him and as he lay his head down again, he found himself staring at her. For the first time in years as he drifted off to sleep, Fenris didn't think of Hawke. Instead he went over the things he would bring up in conversation the next time he and Nadia found themselves alone together.


	32. Chapter 32

Alistair woke up the following morning on the floor of the communal building with Emily's back pressed against him and his left arm tucked under hers. He had wanted so badly to make love to her the night before, but it wasn't exactly like they were alone. He supposed that they could have done it on the ground in the woods, but it just didn't feel right for their first time together. Instead, he opted to sleep next to her and hold her in his arms all night.

She shifted a bit and snuggled in closer to him, pressing her buttocks into his groin. He immediately felt a stirring and within mere seconds, he was completely hard. What made it worse was as soon as he was at full attention, she began grinding against him and moaning softly in her sleep.

The orange and violet symphony of the dawn had just started peeking around the thin leather flaps that covered the makeshift windows on the wall. Since he appeared to be the only one in the room who was actually awake at that moment, he moved Emily's hair to the side and covered her bare shoulder with his mouth. As he sucked softly on her tender flesh, her breath quickened and her movements became more pronounced. It was driving him mad with desire for her, but he wanted to make sure their first time was special. He wanted to romance her and show her how much he loved her, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out.

Mercifully and frustratingly, the outer door opened, spilling the sun's rays into the room. The chief's mate had come in to wake them early, as Emily requested, so they could finally be on their way to Lothering. Alistair felt Emily's fingers curl between his as she squeezed his arm tighter to her waist.

He saw a cat-like grin spread across her face. "Maybe we can finish this later." she whispered throatily.

"So you are awake?" he murmured in her ear after nipping gently at her lobe.

Emily slowly slipped her hand behind her and moved it down until it was cupping his genitals. Like a young virgin, he almost released right then and there, but somehow managed to keep it at bay. She slid her fingers along the length of his shaft through his trousers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Apparently not as awake as you are, my love." purred the mage.

"Unless you want to put on a show for all of these people, sweetheart, you should probably stop doing that." he moaned.

She massaged him gently for only a few more moments before moving her hand away and he was extremely tempted to ask her to put it back, but she sat up and smirked over her shoulder at him before he could. Alistair ran his index finger down the length of her bare arm.

"I am so paying you back for that later." he vowed.

Emily bent down and softly sucked his bottom lip between her teeth before nuzzling his nose. "Oh, I'm counting on it." she teased.

"I miss Merrill." the prince heard Isabela sigh from her nearby bedroll. "You two are just evil, doing things like that in front of me. I haven't had a _proper_ shagging in months."

"What about the harbormaster in Jader?" joked Emily.

"_Ugh_…don't remind me." scowled the pirate. "I'm still having nightmares about that fat smelly bastard sweating all over me."

Alistair shivered. "Now there's a mental image I could have done without."

"Yeah, well think about how I feel." retorted the captain.

"I'm sure the fat smelly bastard does every night while he's-"

"Eww…that's enough." scolded Emily with a grimace. "Let's just get packed so we can get out of here. Under the best conditions, we're almost a week from Lothering and that's without figuring in the fact that we'll have to go through Ostagar. From my understanding, the darkspawn have the run of the place again."

The prince scratched the back of his head, a disquieted frown on his face. "Yes, that was my understanding as well. It just doesn't make sense...If I didn't know any better, I would think that this is the beginning of another Blight…And where are the Grey Wardens? It's their job to quell this sort of thing, yet I haven't seen or heard of even one in the area."

Emily shrugged. "I guess I never thought about that. It does seem rather odd that there are so many of the creatures coming up to the surface lately."

"Well, no matter." he sighed. "There's really nothing that we can do about it and right at the moment, we have bigger problems."

"Are you sure about this?" questioned the brunette mage "Going through Ostagar I mean; I will understand if you would rather try to go around it."

Alistair shook his head. "It's fine. There aren't any other good routes to take to get to Lothering from this part of the Wilds. Besides, I'm kind of curious to see what's going on there myself."

Emily reached her hand up and stroked his hair. "Well, if you're sure…Just remember, I'll be right there with you."

He responded by taking her hand into his and lightly kissing her palm. "Thank you, my love."

Alistair knew that facing the memories of his past at Ostagar would be difficult, but they needed to get to Lothering as quickly as possible. Not only that, but how could he ask her to avoid Ostagar when they were heading to her former home, the place where her father was buried. She had watched her whole family die one by one and was about to come face to face with that. He couldn't even fathom what that would be like and it made his problems seem almost petty next to hers.

Within the hour, they were packed up and back on the road. The tribe's chief was good to his word and they had all of the supplies that they needed to make it to Lothering and beyond. They quickly discovered that travelling without any extra people made the trip much easier and they found that they were actually making good time…for the first day anyway.

The trouble started when they finally made camp that first night. They had just settled down to eat, and Alistair was trying his best to find a way to dump the food Emily had made into the fire without her noticing. The others hadn't been kidding when they said that she was a terrible cook, but he knew she had done her best and he didn't want to hurt her feelings. She had just gotten up to get some salt when he saw his opportunity. Just as he was hurriedly feeding his meal to the blaze, it happened.

His senses were besieged by the tingling feeling he always experienced when darkspawn were near. He stopped in mid scrape and began scanning the dark areas that surrounded their campsite. He closed his eyes and concentrated. After being infected with the taint for so many years, he found that he could actually make out the thoughts of the creatures sometimes. This time, however, he found that he couldn't discern any words or visions, just their presence.

He jumped at the sound of Emily's voice. "Was it that bad?"

Without responding to the mage's question, Alistair dropped his plate next to the fire and pulled his sword and shield. Seeing his actions, Fenris dropped his own dinner quickly and unsheathed the claymore that was resting next to his feet. The others followed suit almost immediately and brandished their own weapons.

"Darkspawn?" Emily questioned in a low voice.

As soon as the word left her lips, half a dozen rogue scouts appeared from the shadows. Nadia immediately rotated and put an arrow through the head of the one nearest to her. Anion was taken by surprise by a genlock at his back. Instead of casting, he used his left hand to push the top of his staff down toward the dirt while holding onto the middle with his other hand, bringing the blunt end up and into the jaw of the creature. Immediately, he crouched and pivoted bringing his staff around in a full circle before landing it at the back of the beast's knees and knocking it from its feet. Finally, he stood, slammed his staff into the creature's gut to knock any remaining wind from its lungs and hit it with a flame spell to finish it off.

Fenris was just as effective at taking out the genlock nearest him, but did it with less flair when he simply swung his broadsword around and lopped off its head. Isabela hit her attacker with a knife thrown between its eyes. The creature that decided to take Alistair was bashed in the head with the prince's heavy shield and immediately thrown into the fire next to him. He turned to help Emily only to discover that she had already encased her assailant in ice and shattered it with her staff.

"Well that was fun." Isabela said, breaking the silence that had suddenly fallen over the camp.

Alistair shook his head. "That was just a scouting party. If I hadn't been able to sense them, I don't think they would have attacked like that. They would have just went back and reported to whatever sent them in the first place." He took another quick look around. "As soon as they realize these guys aren't coming back, they'll be after us."

"So what do we do?" asked Fenris.

"We have to get away from here…and fast." replied the prince.

It only took a moment for Alistair's words to sink in before the party started breaking up camp. They quickly broke down tents, packed up their things and moved on from the area. They walked for hours in silence, waiting for Alistair to tell them it was safe to stop, but he didn't. He could sense the creatures all around. He led them through the swamps and the trees, skirting the beasts as best as he could so they only ran into small groups of them along the way. But no matter how far they walked, he couldn't find anywhere that he felt would be safe enough for them to stop for the night.

By dawn, they were all weary from walking, running and fighting all night. Even though Alistair knew that they were all thinking it, Isabela was the first one to voice her complaints.

"Oh come on." she groused. "It's been hours since we've seen anything. We can at least stop for a _little_ nap, can't we?"

Emily was the next to speak up. "I think Isabela's right, sweetheart. If we don't stop and rest soon, we won't even be able to defend ourselves if we're attacked."

The prince sighed heavily. "You're right. We do need a break." He knew that the darkspawn wouldn't be moving around as much during the daylight hours, so he decided that they could probably chance it. He scanned the landscape for a few moments until his eyes fell upon a small grove of trees and he pointed toward them. "We'll bed down in there for a bit. No tents or fires though, we need to stay as hidden as we can."

They all readily agreed with Alistair's plan and headed toward the shelter of the small wood. Because he could sense the creatures if any did attack, the prince took first watch. It was all he could do to keep his eyes open while he stood guard, but he somehow managed. After a few hours, Fenris woke to relieve Alistair so the ex-Warden could get some much-needed sleep as well.

After Alistair awoke, the companions sat down over a cold meal and made plans for how they would handle the rest of their trip to Lothering. In the end, they decided to travel through the night, and sleep during the day, at least until they got a good distance past Ostagar and the bulk of the darkspawn incursion.

After they were finished, they gathered their things and got back on the trail headed to Lothering. As Alistair looked toward the sun settling to his left, he wondered what exactly it was that they were going to find at the ruins his brother gave his life defending. The evening of that final battle at Ostagar had changed Thedas forever. Everything that was happening at that moment was in some way a result of that tragic day.

For the following two nights, they stuck to their plan and when they finally decided to take a break a few hours after dawn on the third day, they found themselves in a place that Alistair remembered very well. Just as the top of the sun was beginning to peek over the tall trees, the prince decided that they should veer northeast to a smaller path off the main trail to try to find shelter. The place seemed very familiar to him, but he wasn't entirely sure where he was until they came across a small ruin near the edge of a cliff.

As the others began settling in among some nearby trees, Alistair slowly ventured to the remains of stone walls that had become overgrown with plants after so many years of abandonment and neglect. An old, dilapidated chest stood at the other end of what once must have been an ornate entryway into the long destroyed building. His eyes trailed up the once white stone steps that stood next to the battered old strongbox and his mind drifted to the image of a dark-haired, scantily clad apostate descending them.

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

He turned to see Emily gazing up at him with concern in her eyes. He nodded with a morose frown. "Just got lost in a memory, I guess."

She tenderly caressed his cheek. "About Erin?"

Alistair removed her hand from his face and gently kissed the back, but did not let go. That physical connection to her was the only thing that was keeping him grounded at that moment. "Sort of…but it's actually more about everything that happened here." He pointed up the stairway. "Right there…that was where Morrigan was the first time I met her. He looked down at the grass beneath his feet. "And Erin was standing right in this very spot."

Emily squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry Alistair, this must be very difficult for you."

The prince smiled as he pulled her in close and nuzzled her nose with his. "Having you here with me makes it a hell of a lot easier…Thank you."

"Why are you thanking me?"

"For being the one truly good thing I have ever known in my life." he whispered.

Just as Alistair was leaning in to kiss Emily's lips, he was interrupted by a breathless Anion stopping right next to them.

"What's wrong?" investigated the prince.

"There's something going on northeast of here." he panted. "Nadia and Fenris went to scout ahead and they told Isabela and me to come get you."

As if on cue, the pirate appeared at the arch leading into the ruin, her large breasts heaving up and down from the effort of running to keep up with the younger man. "Holy shit." she wheezed. "What are you trying to do, kill me?"

"Nadia said to hurry." replied the healer in a near panic.

"Hasn't anybody ever told you that you only hurry at the pace of the slowest person with you?" Isabela scowled.

"Sorry." Anion apologized with a furrowed brow. "I didn't think about the fact that since you carry so much weight on top, you might not be able to keep up with me."

Despite the obvious seriousness of the situation, Alistair couldn't stop himself from snickering at the young man's jab at the pirate.

In return and without missing a beat, the captain threw a hand on her hip and gave the healer a saucy smirk and a wink. "Well maybe later I can let you feel for yourself how _heavy_ my top is."

Anion turned bright red starting at his ears and spreading over his whole body from there. Alistair felt sorry for the kid and decided to put him out of his apparent misery by getting back to the subject at hand.

"So do either of you have any idea what this is about?" he asked.

"All I know" Isabela replied "Is that Nadia said she heard what sounded like a battle and some people shouting."

Alistair narrowed his eyes and listened carefully. It didn't take long for him to hear exactly what the Wilder woman had been talking about. There was something going on off in the distance and it was coming from the direction of Ostagar. He addressed the others standing near him.

"We need to hurry." he ordered as he took off at a run toward the ruins, the others following closely behind.

When the grey stone of the old city came into view, Alistair was able to see where the trouble was. Standing near the entrance, surrounded by at least two dozen Darkspawn, were four Grey Wardens.

"We have to help them." Alistair cried as he drew his sword from its sheath at his back. "We have to draw the creatures away from them so they have a chance."

The prince screamed a mighty battlecry as he ran toward the monsters, followed closely by the rest of his companions. The creatures nearest to them immediately turned their attention from the Wardens and onto the people who were racing toward them.

Alistair immediately recognized a fire protection spell wash over him just before tremendous balls of flame began raining down from the sky, roasting every darkspawn they touched, but leaving everyone else unharmed. The diversion was exactly what the trapped Wardens needed to gain the upper hand with the remaining beasts that surrounded them and the tide of the battle turned quickly.

After only a few minutes, the corpses of their enemies lay at their feet and all six companions as well as the four unknown Wardens stood victorious among them. Emily was standing right next to Alistair and he was just about to ask her if she was hurt, when one of the Wardens spoke.

"Well slap my ass and call me a nug lover." a gravelly voice bellowed from nearby. "If it isn't the sodding Prince of Ferelden himself."


	33. Chapter 33

"Oghren?" Alistair questioned as he turned to the red-headed dwarf that was standing behind him.

"In the flesh." the small man grinned. "Didn't think I'd ever be seein' you again." The dwarf's eyes moved to Emily and he immediately lifted his big battle-axe to a defensive position. "What in the sodding hell is that bitch doing here? I thought you dumped her sodding ass years ago."

Alistair held up his palms at chest level and waggled his head. "No, Oghren, this isn't Erin. This is her cousin, Emily Hawke."

One of the Wardens that Emily actually recognized, walked toward her and held out his hand. "Hawke," the dark-haired man smiled. "It's nice to see you again."

She clutched his forearm and gave it a hearty shake. "And you as well, Nathaniel."

The archer searched the faces of the people surrounding her and gave a quick nod to the silver-haired elf standing nearby. "Fenris."

"Nathaniel" said the warrior, returning the other man's gesture.

The Warden archer returned his attention to Emily. "But where's Anders?"

The dark-haired mage shook her head sadly. "He fell after the Battle of Kirkwall."

All of the Wardens' faces took on sad expressions upon hearing Emily's news. "Anders is dead?" a dwarven woman whose brown hair was pulled into two short pigtails asked gloomily.

Emily swallowed. "Yes." she muttered in reply. She sniffed before holding her hand out to the smaller woman. "And you must be Sigrun…Anders spoke of all of you so often that I feel like I already know you."

"Wow, Nathaniel wasn't lying." Sigrun declared as she took hold of Emily's wrist. "You could be the Commander's twin."

"Only in physical appearance." Alistair clarified from Emily's side. "Otherwise, she's nothing like her."

"Good to know." snarled a dour looking elf. "If I ever lay eyes on that shem again, I will kill her myself."

Emily gave the blonde woman a small bow of her head. "And you must be Velanna."

The elven mage returned Emily's gesture with a curt nod of her own. "What exactly happened to Anders?"

"He was stabbed with a poisoned blade during the battle." the brunette answered softly.

"Enough of this sad sack shit." bellowed the gruff dwarf with the axe. He held out his hand to Emily. "In case ya hadn't already figured it out, I'm Oghren. Nice to meet ya sweet-cheeks."

The dark-haired mage chuckled as she took his wrist. "You too, Oghren. I've heard a lot about you in particular. "

"_He he. _All good stuff I'm sure."

"Not necessarily good." admitted the mage. "But it was interesting."

The dwarf moved his gaze and it immediately fell on Isabela. "Damn!" he exclaimed. "That has to be the nicest rack I've ever seen on a human. What's your name sweetheart?"

The pirate folded her arms over her ample bosom. "Felsi was right…you are a little pig of a man aren't you?"

"_He he he." _laughed the dwarf. "Been talkin' to Felsi have ya? Did she happen to mention the size of the snake I keep under my armor?"

Isabela arched her brow. "No, she neglected to mention that _little _tidbit of information."

"_He he_…well maybe you'd like to see it so you can judge it for yerself...ya know, up close and personal like."

"Sure." smirked the captain. "It'll make excellent _small _talk the next time I see Felsi."

"Come to my tent later, sweetheart and I'll give ya somethin' to talk about." he winked before he turned his attention to the third woman in Emily's party. "Oh what's this? Another beauty? _He he he._"

Nadia took out the dagger she kept strapped to her bicep and twirled it in her fingers. "Not another word, dwarf or I'll cut out your eyes as well as your tongue."

"Feisty." he said with a grin. "I like that."

The Wilder woman let the dagger in her hand fly and it split the red hair atop the dwarf's head before sticking into a tree right behind him.

"Holy shit!" Oghren yelled just before he shifted his body. "I'm actually kinda turned on now."

Velanna shook her head as she addressed Nadia. "Do not bother. Short of actually killing him, there is nothing you can do or say to shut the dwarf up."

Emily, who wasn't entirely sure that Nadia wouldn't murder Oghren, decided to try to defuse the situation by introducing the rest of her friends. "Yes, well…anyway." she began as she put her hand to her chest. "As you already know, I am Emily Hawke." She pointed out each of her companions in turn. "This is Alistair, Isabela, Fenris, Nadia and Anion."

Oghren's eyes fell upon Anion as the mage introduced him and the dwarf nearly fell backward. "What is this? Sodding twin's day? You look like a miniature version of Anders, boy."

"He was my father." explained the healer quietly.

"I wasn't aware that Anders had any children." Nathaniel remarked.

"Neither was he." confessed the younger man.

The dark-haired rogue nodded his understanding before addressing the rest of Emily's company. "And for those who don't already know us, the loud-mouthed dwarf is Oghren." The small man gave a nod. Nathaniel then pointed to the other dwarf in his party. "This is Sigrun." She gave a small wave. "Velanna." The blonde woman simply crossed her arms and appeared to be bored. "And I am Nathaniel Howe." he concluded putting his hand to his own chest.

"Howe?" Alistair grimaced. "As in Arl Rendon Howe?"

The rogue sighed. "Yes, he was my father" he confessed before adding "but just like Hawke and the commander, I am nothing like him and had nothing to do with the atrocities he committed."

"Well that's good to know" conceded the prince. "So what's going on here anyway? Did the Wardens only send the four of you?"

"Nobody sent us." answered Nathaniel grimly. "We came on our own to investigate…haven't you heard?"

Alistair's brow furrowed with concern. "Heard what?"

"The Wardens are no more. They have been disbanded."

"What?" cried the prince. "What do you mean _disbanded_?"

"It was done on the orders of Warden Commander Erin Amell herself." answered Velanna bitterly.

While the others were talking, Emily noticed Nadia continually scanning the area around them. "Maybe we should discuss this back at our camp. I am no Grey Warden, but I feel eyes upon us as we stand here. It is not safe."

"She is correct." agreed Fenris. "I feel it too."

The remainder of the group decided to heed the rogue and the elf's intuition and they headed back toward the ruins of the Warden outpost. Oddly enough, they didn't run into any more trouble on the way and there were no creatures waiting for them when they returned. With the exception of Oghren who passed out almost immediately, they all sat down over a simple meal and Nathaniel began to explain the situation.

"I suppose it all started about two years ago. There was a rumor that some commander had returned from his calling in the Deep Roads and he showed up at Weisshaupt with a strange dark-haired mage wanting to speak to First Warden Tobias. Tobias granted the two of them an audience, and from my understanding, the old commander, who was almost completely darkspawn himself at that point, attacked the First Warden and was slain by the woman who had accompanied him. None of us witnessed it first hand, but there were rumors that Tobias started acting very strange after that.

One of the first things he did was accuse the High Constable of attempted murder and had him executed for it. Most of the Wardens expected that Tobias would name Chamberlain Matias as his second in command, but instead he brought in Ferelden's Commander for the job. Six months later, Tobias just disappeared, supposedly for his calling, leaving Erin Amell as First Warden.

The new First Warden caused an absolute uproar among the Wardens by naming a non-Warden as her constable…the same woman who had accompanied the Warden which had seemingly returned from the dead. What was even stranger for us here in Ferelden was the fact that she named _Anders _as the new Commander of the Grey in Ferelden, bloody well knowing that he was hiding out in the Free Marches somewhere."

Emily was in a state of complete bewilderment upon hearing the news. "Why would she do such a thing?"

"I am uncertain, but I believe it was to leave us leaderless for when she made her next move."

Alistair rested his right elbow on his thigh, shaded his eyes and began rubbing the side of his index finger across his crinkled brow. "I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Everything seemed to settle down for nearly a year. The majority of the Wardens weren't exactly happy with the way things were, but they were normal enough that most of it could be ignored." Nathaniel continued. "Then about nine months ago, the First Warden called a gathering in Weisshaupt inviting all the Warden Commanders in Thedas along with their Constables and Senior Wardens. Two months passed before all of those called made it to Weisshaupt. Meanwhile, all hell had broken loose in Kirkwall and the Chantry put all of its focus on dealing with the mage uprisings that began to break out all over Thedas.

With the Chantry distracted by the mages and with every Warden with any level of command in the Anderfels at the gathering, Warden outposts throughout Thedas began being destroyed. Soldier's Peak was a pretty simple ordeal for the Commander. It was the only one left in Ferelden and the Queen sent her soldiers to inform the Wardens there that they had until the sun rose the following day to get out. Some refused of course but changed their minds when they saw the order to disperse signed by the First Warden. The decree stated that not only were the Grey Wardens disbanded, but anyone caught wearing the uniform would be arrested and executed without a trial."

"But you still wear the uniform." Fenris observed. "Aren't you afraid of being seen?"

It was Sigrun's turn to answer. "When it happened, we were investigating some darkspawn movements in the Wilds. An old woman came to Soldier's Peak and asked the four of us specifically to investigate the area around her home."

"Flemeth." Alistair and Emily stated at the same time.

The dwarven woman gave the couple a quizzical stare before continuing. "When we were on our way back to Soldier's Peak, we ran into one of the other Wardens who told us what happened. I guess we had been together so long, and we knew that we were going to die sooner or later anyway, that we decided to stay together and continue being Wardens with or without help or permission from Weisshaupt."

"So you're the only Wardens left if Thedas?" asked Alistair wearily.

Nathaniel shook his head. "No, there are others. Small groups here and there who refuse to give up on their duty, but all of them are made up of mere Wardens…not a Senior officer among them."

"And what happened to all of those Senior Wardens?" the prince questioned.

Nathaniel angrily pulled at a long blade of grass standing between his boots. "All of the commanders and constables were locked in the fortress's great hall as they waited for the First Warden. They all burned to death in the fire that was set to Weisshaupt to destroy it. The remainder of the Senior Wardens were stripped of their uniforms and sent to tell any hold-out Wardens the danger of disobeying the First Warden's commands.

Shortly after that, King Edvin and the Anderfels' parliament signed a treaty with Tevinter on the guarantee that the Imperium would protect the country from any backlash by the Wardens."

Alistair's shoulders slumped. "So the Imperium has the Anderfels too? This just gets better and better."

Emily began to go over all of the new information they just learned and she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was something even more important hidden there. Suddenly, it came to her and she felt the unrelenting urge to vomit.

"Nathaniel?" she asked quietly. "What was the name of the Commander who came back from his calling?"

The rogue scratched his head for a moment and then shook it from side to side. "I don't remember." He turned to the other Wardens. "Do any of you?"

Sigrun pursed her lips and squinted up at the midday sun above her head as she thought. "Wasn't it something like…Lantus…Largus…?"

"Larius?" offered Emily, her voice barely audible.

"Yeah, that's it…Larius." the dwarf responded with a grin.

"Fasta Vass." Fenris hissed.

"Holy shit." exclaimed Isabela.

Emily shook her head slowly and covered her mouth with her right palm. "Sweet Maker of mercy." she breathed. "Anders was right…he told me not to let that bastard go and he was right."

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Alistair inquired with concern in his hazel eyes.

"Flemeth wasn't lying." she said in a faraway voice. "This is _so _much bigger than we realized."

* * *

Alistair just stared at Emily for a long moment. He could see it in her face. Something terrible was happening, and she knew what it was. "What's going on Emily?"

She let out a long uneven breath. "That Commander...Larius? I've met him before…in a Grey Warden prison in the Vinmarks."

"O-kay." prodded the prince. "_And_?"

"I'm not sure where to start with this story." she confessed.

"Try the beginning." snarked the female elven mage standing nearby.

"Well," Emily began "it started with my life being threatened by some Carta dwarves. My friend Varric checked it out for me and traced the problem to a place in the middle of nowhere in the mountains which, according to him, didn't even exist…not on any map anyway. So Anders, Fenris, Isabela and I ventured toward where the dwarves were holed up.

As we approached the fortress, I discovered that the dwarves were out for my blood, quite literally. They kept saying something about the blood of my father, Malcolm Hawke, but I didn't understand it right then. We discerned that someone named Corypheus had sent that particular branch of the Carta after me, so we went looking for him. In doing so, we ended up going inside the fortress, fighting a lot of dwarves, picking up a really odd looking staff and getting trapped inside of a magical prison."

"Fun." drawled Alistair.

"Yeah, you should try it sometime...lots of laughs." she snarked. "Anyway...after wandering around for a bit, we came across this weird little man in a Grey Warden uniform named Larius. He informed us that the strange staff was actually some sort of key that could be used to break the seals that would help us escape. In travelling through the prison, I discovered that when I was a baby, Larius-acting on behalf of the Wardens-had captured my father and threatened my mother's life if he didn't use blood magic to strengthen the weakening seals. That was why I had to wield the key, because it wouldn't respond to anyone else's blood but mine.

By the time we reached the final seal, in what Larius called the heart of the dungeon, I found out that the prison was actually built to house one darkspawn…Corypheus. Even while he was sleeping, the creature could speak to anyone with the taint and draw them in to help him. Anyway…I used my actual blood to break the last seal and discovered that Corypheus was actually one of the magisters that entered the Golden City and turned it black.

We ended up fighting him and I thought I had killed him, but once the battle was over, I spoke to Larius and he was…different. He no longer sounded insane and he no longer moved like a darkspawn. He actually seemed quite normal other than the fact that his manner of speaking was a bit odd. I even asked about that and he said that he felt much better since he no longer heard Corypheus's voice inside his head. Once he was out of earshot, Anders told me that we needed to go after him…that something was really wrong and he could still feel Corypheus's presence, but I didn't listen."

Alistair pondered the mage's words for a long moment before finally speaking. "So you think that this Corypheus is like an archdemon. If he is killed by anyone other than a Grey Warden, his soul is automatically transferred into another being with the taint."

"Yes." Emily conferred. "I also think that the First Warden that Larius visited ended up as Corypheus's next host."

The prince shook his head. "No," he argued "that's not possible because if Corypheus is like an archdemon then both he and Tobias would have died."

"But, Tobias didn't kill him." Nathaniel countered. "The dark-haired woman did."

Alistair was dreading to hear the answer to his next question. The dull throbbing in his head and the ache in his gut told him he already knew what Nathaniel would say. "Do you know the name of the dark-haired woman?"

"I know it very well." spat the rogue Warden. "Her name is Morrigan."


	34. Chapter 34

"Morrigan?" Emily asked in bewilderment. "As in Flemeth's daughter?"

"That would be the one." Alistair confirmed with a grimace. "The biggest bloody bitch in Thedas is apparently also the most evil bitch in Thedas…Who would have _ever_ guessed? Oh that's right…that would be _me_."

The brunette mage leaned forward, resting her forearms on her thighs. "So we really are just pieces on a giant chessboard in a game between two witches."

"It would seem so." Fenris quietly agreed.

"Unfortunately," added the prince "we have no choice but to play. I know Morrigan and let me tell you, when it comes down to it, I would rather be on Flemeth's side."

"Have you all completely lost your minds?" Nadia cried suddenly. "We are talking about the Witches of the Wilds. They cannot be trusted."

"So what do you suggest?" Velanna questioned with an arched brow. "Tuck tail and hide in the trees like your people do?"

"We do not hide." the Wilder woman argued. "We simply choose not to get involved."

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news princess." Isabela piped up. "But from where I'm standing, it doesn't seem like you really have much choice…you know, considering that we had to pull your butt out of the fire after you were captured by Tevinters."

"I had the situation under control." Nadia said coolly. "I did not need your help."

"_Really_?" drawled the pirate. "And just what would you have done when that magister showed up out of nowhere? If it weren't for Fenris distracting and then killing him the way he did, I'm not sure any of us would have made it out of that situation? Are you?"

The archer crossed her arms angrily and pursed her lips. Emily shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry Nadia, but sooner or later your people are going to have to choose a side, just like everyone else in Thedas. I'm still not sure what Morrigan's plan is, but it's pretty obvious that Corypheus wants to bring back Imperial rule the way it was in his time."

"Wait" Alistair interrupted "if Corypheus possessed Tobias the way you suggested, doesn't that mean he's gone?"

Emily chewed at her bottom lip as she gently took the prince's hand into hers. "No...Corypheus has a new host...Erin."

"You can't really believe that Erin _planned_ to become a host for an ancient darkspawn." reasoned Alistair.

"No." explained the mage. "I don't think she had any intention of being possessed by Corypheus. I think Morrigan tricked her."

"So everything Erin did was at Morrigan's bidding?" puzzled the prince. "Is it possible that she was under some sort of spell or something? I wouldn't put it past Morrigan to be a blood mage, maybe…"

Emily squeezed Alistair's hand. "No, sweetheart. Erin wasn't under a spell. She and Morrigan were simply working together. I didn't want to mention it before because I didn't think it really mattered," she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "but Anders told me quite a bit about my cousin. He always called her a stuck-up bitch, and that was the kindest thing he had to say."

"That's definitely true." Sigrun confirmed. "She treated Anders and Velanna badly enough, but she was horrible to the rest of us. Since we didn't have magic, she acted like we were beneath her."

"He told me that." the dark-haired mage remarked before continuing. "He also told me that she was…a blood mage."

Alistair's head moved from side to side. "I don't believe you." he protested, his voice barely audible at first, but gaining in volume as he spoke. "I would have known. I would have seen it. Erin couldn't have been a blood mage. Anders lied to you."

"Are you some sort of imbecile?" Velanna blurted out angrily. "Your friend speaks the truth. I saw it with my own eyes, or will you call me a liar as well?"

Emily stared deeply into the prince's eyes and he seemed more distraught than ever. "Alistair…" she shook her head and turned away from him. "I can't do it….I just can't."

"Do what?" he asked. "What aren't you telling me Emily?"

Oghren, who had woken up sometime during their discussion, threw a rock that he had been thumbing to the ground. "Sod it all!" he hollered furiously. "What she's trying to say is that you didn't see that you were just sodding nug shit to that bitch."

Emily knew that Oghren was about to say something that she had avoided telling Alistair. She knew the prince needed to hear the truth, but she just couldn't hurt him like that. She wondered how angry he was going to be with her after it came out in the open, when he learned that she knew all along but never told him.

Alistair's brow furrowed, the mental wheels visibly turning. "What are you trying to say Oghren?"

"Look," explained the gravelly voiced dwarf "I think you're a good kid…kinda on the dumb side sometimes, but a good kid. That Erin bitch, she's bad news, always was." He scratched the back of his head and in frustration planted his axe in the trunk of the tree that was at his back. "Sod it all ta hell!" he bellowed as he grabbed Alistair's collar and shook him. "She played ya son. You were a sodding joke. Everyone knew it" he let go of the prince and dropped his head in shame "but we just didn't have the heart to tell ya. You followed her around with those love-struck puppy eyes doin' whatever she told ya. Then her and that other bitch would laugh at ya when ya weren't around…about how stupid you were. We all knew what she was gonna do to ya at the Landsmeet." He clapped a hand to Alistair's shoulder. "I can't tell ya how proud I was of you when ya finally stood up to that sodding bitch and walked away…I only wish ya would have cold-clocked her right between her sodding eyes."

The prince sat in silent shock for several minutes. "You're right." he breathed, his eyes glistening. "I can't believe I never saw it. All the signs were there, but I just looked the other way. She always seemed to hate me until I finally stood up to her one day, then all of a sudden she wanted to be with me. I should have known a girl like that would never be interested in a guy like me."

Emily cupped his chin and turned his face to hers. "You're too good for a woman like that. You deserve so much better. You are a wonderful man and she was a fool to throw your love away."

"And she apparently paid for her misdeeds with her soul." Fenris added.

"If I hadn't have been so stupid…" the prince scolded himself.

Emily took his face in both of her hands. "Do not lose hope, my love. We can do this. Flemeth apparently has faith in us."

"Haven't you heard?" Isabela chuckled. "Beating impossible odds is Hawke's specialty."

"But how?" Alistair bade. "We are talking about not one army, but three, not to mention magisters, slaves, rebel mages and Maker knows what else."

"Flemeth said that we should rely on alliances we've forged in our past," the mage responded with renewed confidence "and I happen to know a few influential people in Thedas. I get the feeling you do as well. Do you really think that most of these people want to live under the rule of some ancient Darkspawn that was one of the magisters that brought about the Blights?"

Alistair turned his attention to the two small patches of grass growing in the dirt next to his right boot. "No, I don't" he replied before turning his gaze back to Emily's emerald-green orbs. She could see determination and righteous indignation flare in his hazel eyes. "So how do we send these bitches back to the Void where they belong?"

Oghren slapped the younger man on the shoulder so hard that it knocked Alistair into Emily and she had to catch her balance before they both fell to the ground. "That's the spirit boy!" he bellowed with a grin. "_Hehe. _I say we go right to the source, cut those bitches hearts out and dance the Remigold on their rotting corpses just before we piss on 'em."

"As charming…and as oddly fitting as that sounds, Oghren," Emily explained "it isn't going to be that simple. They are going to be surrounded by any number of guards and magisters. We can't just waltz in and kill them. We don't even know where they are right at the moment."

"But you have a plan, I take it." Nathaniel observed.

The dark-haired mage nodded. "Yes, from the little bit of information we received from Flemeth, I believe that they will both be present in Denerim on the eve of Satanalia. That's where we attack. That's when this whole thing will be decided once and for all."

"I still like my plan." Oghren groused.

Emily smiled. "I tell you what Oghren, after we kill them, you can piss on them as much as you want."

"I'll even help you." Alistair said with an angry grimace.

"So what can we do to help?" asked Sigrun, ignoring Oghren and Alistair's plans.

"Teagan, the former Arl of Redcliffe, is heading the rebel army here in Ferelden and they will be meeting us in some caves near the city just before the battle." Emily replied. "I want you to gather as many of those bands of Wardens that you talked about and meet the army there. I will give you a map pointing to the location. Make copies of it and give them only to those that you feel you can trust in this. When they arrive, they should tell whoever questions them that Hawke sent them. I also want you to tell them not to wear their uniforms anymore, but to take them along…the same goes for the four of you. Then, on the eve of the battle, don your uniforms to show those gutless bastards that the Grey Wardens still fight for Thedas and will not be cowed by Morrigan's whims."

Sigrun stood. "Yes ma'am." she exclaimed with a bow of her head and a fist to her heart.

"Now that we have that out of the way," yawned Isabela with a wide stretch of her arms. "I think I could do with a nap."

"I think we could all use some rest." Alistair agreed. He addressed the four Wardens. "You are welcome to camp here for the day if you want."

"Thank you for the offer." Nathaniel told him. "But even during the day, stopping this close to Ostagar for any real length of time is dangerous. I think we should all be moving on. Which way are you heading?"

"North," stated Emily "to Lothering."

Nathaniel shook his head with slight confusion. "I don't know what you're expecting to find there. Even the darkspawn have abandoned that ruin."

"There's something buried there that we need to retrieve." explained the prince.

"In that case, if you don't mind, we will travel with you." requested the Warden archer. "There is safety in numbers after all."

Emily smiled. "We're happy to have you along then."

"Wait." Isabela grumbled. "This means we're not getting any sleep again doesn't it?"

"I'm afraid so, Izzy." answered her dark-haired friend.

"Great." muttered the pirate. "But this is soo the end of you bringing up the Tome of Koslun."

Emily chuckled. "Okay." she agreed.


	35. Chapter 35

The group spent the entire day trekking toward Lothering. Fortunately, it seemed that the farther north they travelled, the less darkspawn the Wardens sensed and by the time they stopped for the evening, there didn't seem to be even one in the immediate area. After that, the rest of their trip to Emily's former home was relatively easy. When they did run into the Blighted creatures, there were relatively few of them so they actually made good time in reaching their destination. By the time Alistair suggested they make camp on the third night, they found themselves within sight of the ruins of the once quaint village.

The prince knew that they probably could have gotten a bit closer and maybe even found what they were looking for that evening, but he thought that if Emily was going to have to face her past, it would be easier in the light of day. After they had started the fire and set up camp, he noticed that the mage was staring off into the distance toward the place she once considered home.

At first he thought to just leave her alone and let her have her privacy, but he remembered what she had done for him at the Warden Outpost ruins outside of Ostagar and decided that she probably needed the same type of support. He made his way to where she was standing and took her hand into his. She did not glance in his direction, but simply kept her eyes fixed to the north.

"Are you okay, my love?" he asked with concern.

"Yes." Emily stated without a hint of emotion in her voice. "I am fine."

Alistair knew better. He knew the mage well enough to tell when she was holding back her emotions. Her tightly clenched jaw and narrowed eyes, even the way she breathed told him that she was definitely not fine. What he didn't know is what exactly he should do when she was like that, so he just made his best guess.

He gently squeezed her hand. "Well, if you _do _need to talk, I'm here for you."

Emily finally turned her face toward him and gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you, Alistair. I appreciate it." In a matter of seconds, she returned her focus to where it had been earlier. After a few more moments her grip strengthened. "I never thought I would come back here." she breathed as her head moved from side to side. "It is so strange…seeing it this way."

"I'm sorry." he said softly.

The mage pressed her lids together for only a few seconds, obviously trying to hold back tears. When she opened her eyes, they were glistening in the moonlight, but not a drop fell to her cheek. "It's fine." she insisted.

Alistair was quickly becoming aware of the fact that the word _fine_ meant the exact opposite of its intended definition. He could see that her thoughts were being haunted by memories of her past. "Are you sure you want to do this Emily?" he asked. "I could always go dig up the map myself. You don't even have to go into the village if you don't want to."

Her smile was genuine when she looked at him again. "Thank you, but I would like to go…In fact, if it's alright with you, I would like for you to go with me…tonight…just the two of us."

The prince kissed the back of the hand that he had been holding onto. "Of course, my love…whatever you want."

Without another word or even a moment of hesitation, Emily began walking toward the village, pulling Alistair along behind her. He quickly fell into step at her side and they made their way to Lothering with the only sound between them being that of their footsteps and the fading din of the camp they left behind.

Just before they entered the village proper, Emily turned to the east and headed toward a small grove of trees that seemed to be at least half a mile away. In the center of the small wood stood the burned out remains of a modest log cottage made from the same timber as the trees that surrounded it. Emily approached the house and ran her hand across a small part of outside wall that remained erect.

"My father built this place almost completely by hand, using very little magic." she explained wistfully. "He felled the trees and sawed the notches himself, and Carver and I helped him stack the logs. That was where the magic came in of course. I was only thirteen and my brother ten at the time, so we needed a little help with the heavy lifting. I must admit though, I got pretty proficient at using air spells in doing that job."

Alistair followed Emily as she walked around to the rear of her former home and knelt next to a small stone with tiny words etched into its grey face. She touched it tenderly and her shoulders slumped as she let out a heavy sigh. Not knowing what else to do, Alistair took a knee next to her and gently ran his hand up and down her spine at the small of her back.

"I wonder what they're saying about me." he heard her whisper.

"Who?" asked the prince.

"My family." she replied before sitting down on the wet grass and pulling her knees to her chest.

Alistair quickly followed suit by taking a seat right next to her. "I'm sure that they are very proud of you Emily, wherever they are."

She leaned into him, wrapped her arms around his waist and nuzzled her face to his neck. "Do you really think so? I'm pretty sure that my father would be ashamed of all of the crying I've done recently."

The prince hugged her warmly before cupping her chin between his fingertips and moving it up so he could look into her emerald eyes. "Emily, I don't think you father expected you to _never_ cry. You are the strongest person I have ever met in my life and you have lost so very much that you wouldn't be human if you never mourned those losses at all. I'm sure if your father were here, he would say the same thing."

She buried her face under Alistair's jaw again. "I miss him." she whispered, her voice strained from trying to hold back her tears. "I miss them all."

"I know." he sympathized. He ran his fingertips across her smoothed back hair and kissed the top of her head tenderly.

"First my family…then Anders," she peered up at him, the tears she had been trying to hold back staining her cheeks "I don't know what I would do if I lost you too, Alistair."

Her words brought back thoughts that had been plaguing him since they left Ostagar. Eventually, he would end up leaving her side as well, the same way everyone else she loved had. If Corypheus was like an archdemon the way they all assumed, then as a Grey Warden, Alistair would have to be the one to kill him and when he did, his life would end. As he looked down at the woman he loved more than his own life, he questioned what it was going to do to her when it happened. Would it finally break her spirit? He wondered if it would be kinder to end their relationship than to make her go through that again.

Alistair rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. "Let's not think of that right now." he told her, his own guilt threatening to tear him apart. He knew it was selfish, but he just couldn't let her go, at least not yet. "Are you almost ready to go into the village and find the map?"

Emily swiped her eyes with her fingertips and sniffed. "Sure." she nodded.

"Hopefully we can find something to use to dig it up." he remarked as he stood and held out his hand to help his love from the ground. "If I remember correctly, it's buried kind of deep."

The mage put her hands on her hips and studied the area around her. Her eyes landed on a small shed that was tucked further into the wood line and seemingly untouched. "My father used to keep those sorts of things in that storage building." she observed as she pointed it out to him. "Maybe we can find what we need in there."

As soon as Alistair pulled on the door of the outbuilding, it fell off its hinges and to the ground. The wood of the structure was so rotten that he almost didn't want to venture inside for fear that the entire thing would collapse in on him. A bright silver-white light appeared from Emily's palm as she moved in next to him and used her magical fire to cut the darkness inside the shed. Just inside the doorway, they found exactly what they were looking for and Alistair snatched it up then quickly backed away.

The prince expected the tool they found to be rendered as useless as the building they found it in, but was surprised to discover that, instead of being made of wood, the handle was fashioned from aurum.

"Papa liked to make sure that his tools lasted." she shrugged. "Besides, that was his first experiment on crafting anything from that material. He wanted to make sure that he could work with it before he began making his staff."

Alistair inspected the place where the handle met the blade and found it to be solid with very little rust on the steel. "I would say that he did an excellent job with this thing."

Emily smiled approvingly at the prince's appreciation of her father's handiwork before taking his left hand. "Are we ready?"

"Whenever you are." he replied.

Once they actually reached the village, Alistair realized that finding the burial place of the map was going to be more difficult than he originally thought. He hadn't taken into account the fact that after nearly nine years, the ruined buildings of the hamlet would be virtually unrecognizable. Fortunately, Emily had lived in Lothering long enough to discern some leftover landmarks he wouldn't have known about. When they finally found the location where the Chantry had once stood, Alistair still didn't know where to begin digging. Emily smiled, closed her eyes and mumbled an incantation under her breath. Within seconds, an odd orange glow began emanating from the ground nearby.

"Start digging over there." she told him with a self-satisfied smile. When he tilted his head to the side with a puzzled expression, she shrugged. "Bethany and I found that spell in one of my father's books." she explained. "We used to use it to find the things that Carver would take from us and bury in the backyard."

Alistair had never heard of such a spell. He wondered how many useful spells like that were kept from the mages that grew up in the Circle. Once the prince began digging, it took only a few minutes to unearth the tightly bound leather pouch that was buried beneath the soft topsoil. He had to question that as well, considering the rest of the ground around them was hard-packed dry dirt and heavy clay, but he decided not to ask.

The purse that held the map had been coated with something that kept it from rotting and Alistair was happy to discover that the parchment inside was not only completely intact, but didn't seem any worse for wear. When they finally returned to camp, they informed the rest of their companions that they had found what they were looking for and could begin heading for Haven first thing the next morning.

Sigrun had made the evening meal and was actually kind enough to warm up a plateful for both Emily and Alistair, but the prince found that he wasn't very hungry. He couldn't stop thinking about what he eventually needed to do. He looked around at the other Grey Wardens who were present, and wondered if there was any way that he would be able to survive the final battle in Denerim.

Emily had gotten up and went to talk to Isabela. Alistair watched her sadly as she spoke animatedly with the pirate. He felt a hand on his shoulder as Nathaniel sat down next to him. "You seem distraught my friend." the archer observed as he nodded toward the dark-haired mage. "I take it that it has something to do with Hawke."

The prince shook his head and smiled. "It's nothing."

Nathaniel lifted his right shoulder and let it quickly drop. "I understand if you don't want to speak to me about it….However there is something that we _should _discuss."

"What's that?" Alistair asked, happy to get his mind off of his problems with Emily.

The dark-haired rogue motioned the other Wardens over. After they were all seated, Nathaniel spoke again. "We were just talking about what needs to be done at the end of the final battle…regarding Corypheus I mean."

"Yeah," growled Oghren. "We're trying to decide who gets to take that bitch's sodding head."

Alistair waggled his head. "It's okay…I'll do it."

"Like hell you will!" shouted the dwarf. "I'm gonna be the one to do it."

"Oghren." Nathaniel interjected. "You can't. You have a child."

"Kid's better off without me around anyway." Oghren mumbled. "And what boy wouldn't be proud to say that his father's the sodding Hero of Ferelden?"

Sigrun shook her head and held out her hand which contained four pieces of straw "No, we already agreed to draw for it."

"That sounds fair." said Alistair. "But why are there only four?"

"Because you are not participating." replied Velanna haughtily. "You are merely included in this to be a witness."

"I may have walked away from the order, but I'm still a Warden." Alistair protested.

"That may be so." Nathaniel concurred. "But more importantly, you are the future King of Ferelden."

"I am not the future king." argued the prince. "I renounced the throne."

"You renounced to a queen who has no husband, no heirs, no parents and who betrayed her country in the worst way imaginable." The dark-haired rogue countered. "I don't think your abdication is valid anymore. You are the only one who has a claim to the throne, Alistair."

"So are we gonna do this or not?" bellowed Oghren after a few moments of silence.

Sigrun held out the straws and each of the other three Wardens took one. In the end, Sigrun ended up with the shortest, followed by Velanna, Oghren and then Nathaniel.

"Well," shrugged the female dwarf. "According to the Ancestors, I'm already dead so it only makes sense that they would pick me."

The five Wardens sat around talking for a bit longer before all but Alistair decided to turn in for the evening, leaving the prince alone with his thoughts once again. He scanned the camp until he spotted Emily near her tent. A coquettish grin spread across her face just before she disappeared inside the canvas shelter.

Alistair hadn't even thought about the fact that even if he survived the final battle he would be expected to take the throne. It finally dawned on him that no matter what happened, he and Emily could never be together. He would either be killed or he would be the ruler of Ferelden and by Chantry law, no mage could marry into royalty.

The dark-haired beauty reappeared from her tent and began walking toward the prince. She must have noticed that he was upset about something because her smile turned to a worried scowl. He made himself flash his most winning smirk.

"Well if it isn't the most beautiful woman in Thedas." he said as he took her into his arms and nuzzled her nose with his.

"What's wrong love?" she asked with concern.

"What could possibly be wrong when you're in my arms?" he asked while pulling the red ribbon from her hair.

As he touched his lips to hers, Alistair's mind was crying out that he should tell her…that he should just let her go so it would be easier for them both later. But his heart just wouldn't let him do it. In his entire life, he had never felt loved the way he did when he was with Emily and he had never thought it possible to love anyone the way he loved her.

_I will tell her…later _he thought. _Later__, but not tonight. I just need one more night before I let her go._


	36. Chapter 36

Emily awoke the following morning in Alistair's arms once again. The previous night, she had said goodbye to the prince and retired to her tent for the evening only to have him visit her within the hour. He told her that he didn't expect anything but was simply content to be near her that night. After she allowed him access to her shelter, she was surprised by the fact that he was telling the truth and all he wanted was to hold her. She had to admit that sleeping in the comfort of a man's embrace was something that she had sorely missed since Anders moved out.

The mage was tempted to tease her love, but thought better of it in the end. She simply rolled over and snuggled her face into his bare chest.

She felt him kiss the top of her head. "Good morning beautiful. How did you sleep?"

Emily smiled up at her love and the look in his hazel eyes almost took her breath away. "I always sleep much better when I'm in your arms."

"Mmm" Alistair moaned with that sexy smirk that made her stomach flutter. He nuzzled her nose with his and then kissed the tip. "I know exactly what you mean."

Emily so badly wanted to ask him to make love to her, but every time they tried, someone always interrupted. As if reading her mind, he rolled her over onto her back and rested his hips between her thighs. She felt his fingers moving through her hair as he searched her green eyes.

"I love you, Emily." he whispered softly. His boyish grin and twinkling eyes disappeared as he spoke and his demeanor had become melancholy.

Her brows crinkled together and she swallowed. "What's wrong Alistair?"

The prince shook his head and he gave her a half-hearted smile. "Nothing…we should probably get moving though."

Immediately, he pushed himself onto his knees and began scanning the tent for his shirt. Emily couldn't understand his behavior. The previous evening, he had been warm and loving, but now he seemed distant and a bit cold. The mage felt a stabbing pain in her heart, but she needed to know the truth.

"Alistair?" she begged as she sat upright and tucked her feet under her bottom. "Please tell me what's going on."

He pulled his shirt over his head, leaned over and pressed his forehead to hers. "It's nothing, Emily…really." he lied. "I'm just a little distracted with everything that's going on I guess."

The mage knew that he was keeping something from her. She wondered if it had something to do with the conversation Alistair had with the other Wardens before they went to bed, but she decided not to push the subject. Whatever was going on, she supposed that he would tell her when he was ready.

"I understand." She nodded with a small smile. "And I love you too, by the way."

He lightly nuzzled her nose and gave her a small peck on the lips. "A fact I thank the Maker for every day."

After everyone had eaten breakfast and the camp was broken down, the four Grey Wardens who had joined the party in Ostagar departed to head north while Emily and her companions headed southwest. They had decided to follow the southern Hinterland Hills around until they reached Great Western Marshland where they would turn due west toward the foothills of the Frostback Mountains.

They hadn't gotten very far when Nadia informed them that her village was located on the far western side of the marshes and requested that they escort her back there. Although Emily was reluctant to lose such a talented archer, they had just begun to gain Nadia's trust and the mage would not risk making the Wilder woman feel as if she were obligated to accompany them. If Nadia did not wish to go with Emily and her friends, Emily would not try to change the other woman's mind.

As the small band traversed the hillside, they were hit with a torrential rainstorm. The severity of the downpour caused them to find the need to take shelter in a cave along the way for nearly three days, and by the time they reached Nadia's home, they had only three weeks before they needed to be back in Jader. When they did finally reach the home of the Western Tree Dwellers, Emily had to admit that she was actually impressed by the way the "village" was set up. There was only one other Wilder tribe which they visited that built their houses in the trees, but it was nothing like the setup Nadia's clan had.

Sturdy round huts and communal buildings constructed from wooden shake had been built on what looked to be several large platforms fabricated around the tops of a tremendous grove of cypress trees. A series of swinging bridges fashioned from planks and ropes connected the platforms and at each end of the village there was a strong braided ladder that could be pulled up easily in case of enemy attack. Nadia ran ahead of the others to let the men who were on watch know that the strangers she brought with her were not hostile, but her guests.

After hearing that one of the people among Nadia's new companions was the daughter of Malcolm Hawke, the clan chief came down to ground level to greet them personally. He explained that a great feast was being prepared by his people to celebrate his daughter's return and Emily tried her best to politely refuse his offer for them to stay, but in the end the mage succumbed to his request.

While they waited, Alistair led Emily back down onto the ground saying that he needed to talk to her. During their trip from Lothering, he had barely spoken a word to her or anyone else. His mood had been darker than the mage had ever seen it so when he requested to speak to her privately, she braced herself for bad news.

Once they were away from the village, he took her hands into his and silently studied them for a long while. When he finally looked up into her eyes, his own were glistening and his face wore the expression of complete heartbreak.

"I need to tell you something." Alistair sighed. "And it's the hardest thing I think I have ever had to say in my life."

Emily could feel tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She drew a ragged breath. "What is it, my love?"

He exhaled loudly and closed his eyes, but before he could convey his thoughts, they were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Emily turned to see an old man carrying an odd looking wooden staff nearing their position. Carved atop the magical weapon was the figure of a small bear and tied at its feet were several leather cords which held different colored feathers and small animal skulls at their ends. Etched into the length of the staff were crude symbols that Emily didn't recognize. He was dressed in tanned leather leggings covered in front and back by an ornately beaded breechcloth along with a simple sleeveless leather tunic. On his feet were a pair of soft mukluks covered in brown furs which were held on by leather strings crisscrossing over them. He was crowned by the head of a great brown bear whose skin he wore like a coat. The front legs of the creature hung over his shoulders while the remainder of its body flowed down his back. The bottom half of his face was covered by a long thick gray and white beard that reached down to his navel and the top half of his face was streaked with some sort of light blue face paint.

Both of the outlanders were struck mute by the presence of the ancient mage who was now standing at their sides. "I am Uther," he announced, "shaman of the Western Tree Peoples." He gave a small nod to the prince. "Welcome Alistair Theirin, King." He then gave a bow of his head to the mage. "Welcome Emily Hawke, daughter of Malcolm."

Alistair eyed the man suspiciously. "Wait…I don't remember seeing you in the village. How did you know our names? And why do you call me king?"

"Because that is what you are." The older man stated matter-of-factly. "Just because your crown was stolen from you by the destroyers, it makes you no less a king." His grey eyes narrowed as he took in the faces of the younger people in turn. "Your coming was foretold to me many years ago and I have watched for the signs of your arrival."

"Who told you we were coming?" Emily asked.

"Why the eidola, of course…the spirits of the dream world." smiled the shaman, his few remaining teeth blackened from age and neglect. He lifted his arm and pointed a bony finger at the younger mage. "_You_ are more familiar with the eidola than most."

The woman bobbed her head, realizing that he must have been referring to Justice, but how could he possibly know about that? "Yes, but how…?"

"Together, the two of you must lead your people against those who would enslave all with their evil." the old man interrupted. "You are the world's hope…and its salvation."

Alistair snorted. "You_ must_ be joking. I'm hardly the poster boy for hope or salvation."

"You are more than you appear to be….especially to yourself." the shaman countered. "Your true strength however, lies in the woman who stands at your side. Just as her true strength lies in you."

Emily took Alistair's hand into hers and gave it a slight squeeze. When she smiled up at the prince, his face was more distraught than she ever remembered seeing it. Upon noticing her quizzical stare, Alistair quickly dropped her hand and crossed his arms.

"So what is it exactly that we're supposed to do?"

"You will know when the time comes." the old man answered ominously.

"_Right_" quipped the prince sardonically. "Very helpful."

"You _will_ be the ruler both your people and mine require." the ancient mage reiterated. "And your part in this war and beyond will far outweigh the things your father accomplished in his lifetime."

Emily could see that Alistair was becoming extremely irritated by the Wilder wise man, so she thought it was probably time to interject. Before she could, however, the strange mage addressed them once more.

"Come, we must go to the village now. There is much to discuss with the chief."

With that, he turned from them and headed toward the rope ladder that led up to the village among the treetops. As they followed him at a distance, Emily couldn't help but notice that even though the old man seemed to use his magical staff as a sort of walking stick, his gait was quite spry for someone of his obvious advanced years.

By the time she and Alistair reached the top of the ladder, Uther was gone, seemingly having disappeared into the night. Emily and the prince followed the sounds of celebration that were coming from the center of the community and found a large fire that was burning inside a pit in the large center platform which had apparently been built for such an occasion. On the stage surrounding the controlled blaze stood several long wooden tables with a dozen chairs placed strategically around each one. Beyond that, Emily took note of many more of the same tables set up in the wide-open community building. Raucous laughter poured out from the feasts revelers along with music played on crude instruments, some of which Emily did not recognize.

The young mage surveyed her surroundings until her eyes fell upon her friends near the head of the table that sat in front of the fire. Two empty seats, one on each side of the wooden slab next to the chief sat unoccupied. One chair at the opposite end of the table remained empty as well, which made Emily wonder if it was meant for the tribe's shaman whom she hadn't seen since he ascended the ladder.

After he noticed their presence, the chief bridged the gap between his table and the couple in a matter of seconds. He stood between them, put an arm around each one and clapped a big hand to their respective shoulders, giving them a firm shake.

"I had begun to think that you might have abandoned us before my daughter explained that you are mates who have not found time for such pairings." Emily noticed Alistair's face redden slightly at Nadia's father's words. He opened his mouth to protest, but was immediately cut off by the clan leader's booming voice. "Do not worry. I am not offended. I am not so old that I have forgotten what it was like to be young and virile."

"Thanks." Alistair mumbled under his breath while Emily could only manage an embarrassed smile.

The chief gripped Emily's shoulder so tightly that it caused her to wince. He began leading the two of them toward his table. "Come now" he insisted, "join our celebration and regale us with the tales of your adventures. My Sagira tells me that you are both fine warriors."

"Sagira?" Emily questioned before she even had time to think about it.

"Yes," he explained. "It is a name that only I call my daughter, since she was but a girl. It means 'little one' in the old language."

The brunette mage tried not to chuckle when she thought about the fact that even though Nadia was a fully grown woman, the name still fit her very well. When the three of them were about to take their seats at the table, Emily looked up to the place where she and Alistair had just been standing and saw the tribe's shaman. The chief must have noticed at about the same time because he jumped to his feet, kicked back his chair and dropped to his knees. In seeing their chief's actions the rest of the tribe quickly followed suit and in only a few moments, Emily and her friends were the only ones still sitting.

Uther approached the leader and placed a withered hand atop the other man's crown. "Arise, Vahdel." He commanded in a gentle tone. "There is much to discuss. Let our people continue in celebration while we retire to the spirit house along with your daughter and the outlanders."

Without looking up, the chief bowed even lower. "Yes, wise one it will be done as you ask."

Emily was a bit confused as she trailed after the others who were making their way to the tribal spirit house. She had always been under the impression that the clan's chief was the supreme leader of the Wilder tribes, but by the tribe and the chief's reaction to their shaman, she was starting to see that she must have been wrong. It seemed that the chief was responsible for the day to day welfare of the clan and relinquished his leadership when the shaman was present.

The tribe's elders led them to a small building that sat away from all of the others on its own platform. There were no windows and the lone outer door was flanked on either side by chest-high bears which had been lovingly and carefully carved from cypress. Both animals stood on their hind quarters, but where one seemed docile and almost friendly, the other was snarling and wild.

"The great brown bear is the symbol of our tribe." Nadia whispered to Emily just before they entered.

Inside, there were several small brown fur rugs arranged in a circle on the floor. There were no pictures decorating the walls. Instead, ornate necklaces were found hanging above unique mage's staffs cradled in large wooden hooks. Directly beneath each of those, sitting upon the floor, was a totem in the shape of a man or woman dressed similarly to Uther. To the side of each totem stood a candle holder of the same height, one holding a black taper and the other a white.

As soon as everyone was seated upon a rug, the shaman lifted his hands to shoulder level and opened his palms, immediately causing the candles surrounding the room to spring to life. A small wooden bowl was resting on the insides of the ancient man's ankles. He began muttering strange words which Emily recognized as an incantation by its rhythm, but she did not understand the language. As he spoke, he dipped his index finger into the container and drew a long line from the top of his forehead to the tip of his nose. That line was followed by four more going from one side of his face to another in vertical lines, again starting at the top of his forehead and going down to the end of his nose.

Once his task was complete, he passed the bowl to the chief who was sitting at his side, while still reciting the same spell. Emily watched as the bowl was passed around the circle and as soon as the wood touched their hands, everyone silently followed the shaman's lead, painting their faces just as he had as if under some sort of hypnosis.

When Alistair placed the vessel in Emily's palms, she was reluctant at first, but felt as if she were in some sort of trance and her body was moving of its own volition as she painted her own face in the same odd pattern as well. When she finished and handed the container to Nadia, Emily's vision became clouded but her hearing more astute. The sound of her own heartbeat thundered in her ears, mixed with those of the people who surrounded her. The acrid smell of smoke emanating from the nearby candles burned her nose and left a metallic taste in her mouth. Behind her eyes, she saw flashes of memories belonging to the others in the room. She not only saw them, but felt them as well. Pain, joy, happiness and sorrow flooded over her like a tidal wave as she gained a better understanding of every single individual in her presence. It was as if she were one with the spirits of the Fade, all-seeing and all-knowing.

There were only two people in the room that the young mage didn't have full mental access to, Uther, whom she could not see at all and Alistair. It was almost as if his thoughts and memories of his years after the Blight were being blocked from her. She even found herself concentrating to get a glimpse of what the prince held behind those hazel eyes, but no matter how hard she tried, she was unable to discern anything past the day his kingdom was stolen from him.

It seemed as if the entire experience lasted only a few minutes, but when the first rays of dawn assaulted her eyes as a cold greasy cloth swiped over her face, Emily realized they had actually been there all night. When Uther finally spoke to the group, she discovered that it was even longer than she thought.

"For two nights and a day, you have walked with each other through the world of dreams." The old mage told them as he motioned for them to stand. "I have brought you together in this way to show to you that you are not as different as you believed. Each of you desires to live your lives in peace and freedom." He turned his steel-colored eyes to Vahdel and Nadia. "And to those of my people, you now know what your part in this is and what needs to be done."

The chief and his daughter bowed their heads low before approaching Alistair and Emily and taking a knee before them. They spoke in unison, two voices as one. "We pledge our lives and the lives of our people to you Alistair, King. We pledge our lives and the lives of our people to you Emily, daughter of Malcolm. The tribe of the Western Tree Dwellers is yours to use as you see fit and we will gather up as many of our kinsman from other clans as is possible to also carry your banner into battle. This is the wish of the blessed eidola, may they grant us victory and glory."

The oath spoken by the proud people kneeling before her, left Emily a bit awe-stricken and by the expression on Alistair's face, she could see that he felt the same.

"Please," he said in a low but reverent voice "please rise. I am overwhelmed by your generosity…thank you."

Vahdel and Nadia found their feet once again while Uther approached the prince and clapped a bony hand to the younger man's shoulder. "You are carried by the winds of change that blow at your back. It is your fate to bring peace that has been prophesized for many ages."

The shaman turned his back on the room and headed for the door. Just as he reached the open entryway he glanced back over his shoulder at Alistair and Emily. "Your destinies are intertwined more than you know and darker days lie ahead still. Do not lose hope, in your endeavors or in each other." With those words, the ancient mage walked into the sun and disappeared as if he had never been there at all.


	37. Chapter 37

Nadia hugged her father tightly as she said goodbye to him once again, promising to return before the final battle so she could stand at his side. As reluctant as she had been to help the Northerners, the vision granted to her by the eidola could not be forsaken. Her departed mother had come to the rogue during her visit to the world of dreams and told her that she must travel with Hawke and the king. She still did not understand her part in the war, but she would not disobey the spirits when they called upon her.

As she walked from her village, the archer looked back only once to hold up a departing hand to the man who sired her. She would miss him and all of the others. She also had to admit to herself that she was more than a little nervous about travelling so far outside of the Wilds. Hawke said that they were headed to Jader, a town that lay next to the ocean. Nadia wondered what it would be like to see an expanse of water that reached farther than she could see. The rogue's eyes fell upon the people who were her travelling companions, seeing them in a different light than she had before.

First there was the quick-witted pirate captain, Isabela. Up until then, Nadia saw the woman as frivolous and wanton, someone who was throwing her life away for selfishness and pleasure just because she could. After her time in the dream realm, she had a new appreciation for the older woman. She felt Isabela's pain as she watched the Rivaini's mother sell the young girl into slavery to a man who didn't love her just because Isabela did not want to convert to her matron's religion. She watched as the girl grew into a woman and saw her husband, who did not love her, make her do things to please his guests as well as himself. In desperation to escape that life, the young woman hired an elven assassin to kill the beast she was married to. Isabela may have pretended to be carefree, but there was a lifetime of pain and loneliness behind those deep brown eyes.

Next there was the young healer. He was reserved and thoughtful and continually searching for a link to his past and his heritage. His mother died a tragic death which left him alone when he was but a boy. Although he spent nearly half of his life among a tribe, he was never accepted as one of his adopted clan. He was scorned and treated with disdain, always reminded that he did not belong. Now he searched for answers about a deceased father who never knew the young man even existed.

Then there was the silver-haired warrior, Fenris. As interesting as Nadia thought him to be before, she now found herself fascinated with the elf. Even though he suffered much worse things, some of the tortures he endured at the hands of his former master reminded her of the things she went through in the six years she was held prisoner by a minor lord in South Reach. She was not quite sixteen when she was captured and she was made to do things that still haunted her dreams. In the end, she managed to find her inner strength and escape, killing every man who abused her. As for the minor lord who was in charge of the whole thing, Nadia slit his throat then hung him by his feet from the rafters of his bedchambers so she could watch his blood drain onto the stone floor.

When she returned to her people at the age of twenty-one, she was a completely different person from the young girl they knew. She was a strong but cynical woman who would never again allow anyone to treat her as those men had. She had never thought to find anyone that might hope to understand her, let alone a man, but there he was trudging along ahead of her.

Following behind Fenris was Alistair, King of Ferelden. He was more of a mystery than the rest of her new companions. Nadia had seen and felt the things he had gone through in his life, but only up until the female Warden and the queen took his throne from him. It was as if his life stopped at that moment and time stood still afterward. The rogue had to wonder if the past seven and a half years had been blocked from her vision because it was something the eidola hadn't wanted her to see or if the absence of that time was merely symbolic. After that blank spot in the king's life, Nadia was given a vision of Alistair being crowned while he was surrounded not only by her people, but also elves and mages, as if he saw them all as equal to everyone else in his kingdom. From what the archer saw, Alistair Theirin was without a doubt the ruler that was spoken about in the Wilder shamans' prophesies.

Lastly, there was Hawke. Nadia finally had a much better understanding of the female mage. The archer saw how the little girl came into magic and knew how the child felt when she thought she had disappointed her father by shedding tears. Hawke was forced into the role of a leader at a young age when her father died and left her as head of her family. Nadia felt the pain that the mage did when she watched her sister die and again when she had to put the knife to her brother in the Deep Roads. The Wilder woman was also overcome with the same guilt Hawke carried over the death of her mother, Leandra.

Then there were the men in the apostate's life. Surprisingly, the first to hurt her was Fenris. He made her feel unattractive, unlovable…rejected. After that, there was Hawke's lifemate, Anders, whom Nadia recognized as Anion's father. She also saw the eidolon the man had carried within him. The once benevolent spirit of Justice had become twisted and angry by both the mage whom he shared a body with and a woman who looked like Hawke on the outside, but had an evil and perverted soul. The rogue was made aware of both the joy Hawke's lover brought as well as the sorrow he subjected her to. There was a child at one point which was lost before birth, devastating the mage even further.

Time after time, Hawke's friends and lovers betrayed her, yet she stood by them. That was what made the mage so unique among others whom Nadia had known and that was what would help keep them all together.

* * *

Isabela kept her eyes to the path ahead. That spirit house had really thrown her for a loop. She was aware of the things that the others with her had seen and felt throughout their lives, which reminded her that she really should be nicer to Fenris. He may have been a pain in the ass most of the time, but after what that man went through, the pirate realized that he really had a right to be. She knew he had been a slave and had been tortured, but she never realized what that meant until she saw it with her own eyes…and the pain…Isabela wondered what kept him from killing every mage he laid eyes on.

The pirate stole a glance over her shoulder at the rest of her travelling companions and quickly returned her gaze to the road. If she saw all of the intimate details of their lives, what did they now know about her? She couldn't bear the thought of anyone feeling even the least bit sorry for her. On top of that, she was simply embarrassed by the fact that she allowed that beast of a man to treat her as he did for so long.

Another quick glimpse. _Poor Hawke, _she thought to herself. The pirate had known about most of the things that she had seen in the mage's life, but there were parts that her friend had kept hidden. The one that bothered Isabela the most was the child. Apparently, Hawke and Anders decided to keep _that_ little tidbit of information to themselves, choosing to tell no one else about her pregnancy. The worst part of it was how utterly alone Hawke was afterward. Right after the miscarriage was when Anders began to distance himself from her. Losing the baby had driven a wedge between the couple that they never quite recovered from, and Hawke apparently believed that it was the reason Justice gained such a strong foothold on Anders again. The weight of guilt that woman carried was enough to fell the Maker himself.

Any lingering doubts about participating in the upcoming war were quelled by Isabela's experience with the Wilders. If the pirate took nothing else away from the visions she had seen, she knew with absolute certainty that she was with Hawke until the very end.

* * *

Although Fenris's eyes took in the trail beneath his feet, he wasn't really seeing anything. It was almost as if his feet carried him wherever they wanted to go because his mind was a thousand leagues away. His thoughts were torn between two of the three women he travelled with, his oldest friend and what he hoped was his newest.

Even though Hawke had talked to him quite often and about many things, there were some parts of her life that he never knew about. One was a child sired by the abomination and lost to the Void before it even had a chance to live. But more than that, were her feelings about him. Fenris knew he had hurt her when he walked out her door that night, but he had no idea how much. She had loved him back then, there was no mistaking that, and he turned his back on her. Then on the ship, after spending a night alone with Alistair, she had decided to give _their_ relationship another chance…and Fenris blew it. The woman he had loved more than life itself closed her heart to him completely that day…and he found that he wasn't that upset about that fact.

The thing that bothered Fenris most was that after seeing the visions of the Fade, he started to feel a kind of kinship with Nadia. He saw the things she had gone through at the hands of a vile nobleman. He witnessed the abuses she suffered at the hands of men when she was barely more than a girl. He also observed her not only killing the one responsible for her pain, but taking great joy in watching him die slowly. The elf was almost positive that Nadia had seen his life as well and wondered what she thought of him because of it. All Fenris knew for sure was that there was a tremendous part of his heart that wanted to show the rogue that not all men outside of her tribe were monsters. He wanted to prove to her that she was good and worthy of being cared for and that she was not spoiled in the way those around her made her feel. He only hoped that, after seeing what Danarius had done to him, she didn't see him in that manner.

* * *

Anion observed the trees and wildlife that surrounded him. He took in the sounds and the smells of everything. After his experience in the Fade, he found that he felt more alive than he ever had in the past. Before he had always felt so alone and isolated, but the light of the sun that morning brought to him a fresh perspective. For the first time since his mother died, he felt that he belonged, that he was part of a real family. He had observed the tragedies of his companions' lives, of course, but he also experienced their triumphs and camaraderie.

Best of all, though, he got to finally see his father. Anion knew that Anders had been far from perfect and he was somewhat ashamed of the way the man treated Hawke, but at least he had a better understanding of who his sire was outside of the old journals he carried. The young healer now knew that Anders had been a bit of a romantic, caring, altruistic, talented in his gift, and actually had a really good sense of humor. He was also an excellent cook, a bit of a practical joker, really bad at playing card games and, according to Hawke's recollections, an amazing lover….although Anion wasn't sure he really wanted to know that last little tidbit of information and felt slightly embarrassed about some of the particular visions he had regarding that sort of thing.

The young mage only wished that he could have known the man personally. He was aware of the discussions that Anders and Hawke had about having children and he saw the way his father reacted when his love told him that she was expecting. Somehow, Anion knew in his heart that if Anders had known about his existence, he would have welcomed his son with open arms. That was a feeling that the young man would carry with him always.

* * *

Even though he had seen visions of all of his travelling companions and he found them enlightening, Alistair couldn't keep his mind from wandering back to Emily. He was angry at the Wilder shaman for taking them into the Fade and showing them the things that he had. It felt like a complete invasion of privacy. He now knew things about his love that he knew she wouldn't have wanted him to see or know. The ones that bothered Alistair the most were the private, intimate moments Emily had shared with her former lover. The prince had an awareness of her feelings for the mage that at first made him question if she could ever possibly feel those things for him. He soon realized how foolish that thought had been. Alistair found that Emily's love for him was almost overwhelming. It did bother him a bit to know that she still loved her former fiancée as much as she did, but only until the prince realized that her love for him was just as powerful, just as real, only different.

Alistair glimpsed back at her for only a moment and she smiled sweetly at him. The look in her eyes made his chest swell and his heart flutter. Now that he knew her heart both inside and out, Alistair knew that Emily was everything he had ever wanted. She was the type of woman he had always dreamed about.

_Damn that Chasind shaman! _he cursed to himself. _Why did he have to make this harder?_

Uther told them that their destinies were intertwined. He told the prince that Emily would be his strength and that they should not lose hope in each other, but how would she ever be able to remain at the side of a man who would so utterly break her heart?

* * *

The company of travelers had lost so much time in their trip through the Kocari Wilds, that by the time they stopped for the night within a mile or so of the path leading up to the hidden village of Haven, they found that they had just under two weeks to get back to Jader and set sail. After supper as they sat around the fire, instead of the banter and stories which they had become accustomed to, Isabela brought up a proposal.

"We are at least a week away from Jader, probably more." began the pirate. "And Alistair says that once we find the trail leading to this village we're looking for, it will take an entire day to trek up the mountain to get to it."

Alistair arched a brow. "Is there a point coming anytime soon, Isabela?"

The captain sighed with irritation. "I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but when a ship makes port for as long as mine has, her crew tends to scatter. So before we can leave Jader, I'm going to need time to hire a crew and that can take up to a week or more. I just don't see how we're going to have time to go meet with the mages, get back to Jader, hire a new crew and be gone before the Archon arrives."

"So are you suggesting that we not go talk to the mages?" scowled the prince.

Isabela waggled her head. "No, I think we should split up into two groups. I will take one back to Jader first thing in the morning and you take the other into Haven. Then we will meet back at my ship. Hopefully that will buy us the time we need."

Emily chewed her bottom lip for a moment before nodding her head. "Actually, that sounds like an excellent plan Isabela."

The pirate smirked. "See, I can be smart sometimes, I'm not _just_ a nice set of tits with a great ass."

Emily decided that she wasn't about to touch _that_ comment with a ten foot pole. "So who is going where?" she asked.

"I figure Alistair should go to the village, since he's the only one here who actually knows the mage in charge." replied the pirate. "I also think that it's a good idea for the two apostates of our group to go with him, you know, to put them more at ease. Besides, if there's trouble, you and Anion can counter their magic with your own."

"I don't like the idea of leaving you, Hawke." Fenris spoke up from across the bonfire.

The mage felt Alistair's strong arm wrap around her shoulders. "Don't worry, Fenris. Emily has me for protection. I'm not about to let anything happen to my girl." He leaned over and gently kissed her cheek.

The prince's actions surprised Emily a bit since it was the first time he had shown her any real affection since they left Lothering. With the over-protective jealousy act he was laying on her, the mage couldn't help but wonder what exactly Alistair saw while he was in the Fade. She wanted to be angry at him for it, but it felt so good to actually have his attention that she couldn't help but smile.

Even through the blaze, Emily could see Fenris roll his eyes and harrumph. "Fine." he mumbled.

Then she saw him glance over at Nadia and his demeanor softened. The mage had been wondering if there was something between the warrior and the Wilder woman and Fenris's sudden change in attitude confirmed her suspicions. _Good for you, mal amica. _she thought to herself.

Emily's musings were interrupted by the knowledge that Alistair's arm had fallen back to his side and he had once again turned solemn and withdrawn. She was tempted to ask what was bothering him for the hundredth time, but she knew that he wouldn't tell her. Instead she leaned into him and gave him a small shoulder bump which he promptly returned with a smirk. It was the first time she had seen anything close to a smile from him in weeks. At least it was something.

She took his big hand into hers and gave it a small squeeze. "I love you." she whispered softly.

He hesitated for a long moment before taking her face into his palms. He leaned in and with closed lids and a grin, he tenderly rubbed the tip of her nose with his. "I love you too, Emily…with all of my heart."

Once again, the mage felt fluttering in her stomach just before she felt his lips touch hers. Almost as soon as the kiss began, it ended. Alistair brushed a stray tendril away from her brow and tucked it behind her ear. "I'm a bit tired." he said with a morose frown. "I think I'll turn in for the night." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Goodnight, my love."

Without another word, Alistair stood and began walking toward his tent, leaving Emily to wonder when he was finally going to work up the nerve to break her heart.


	38. Chapter 38

Cordell Pinard sat down at the small grimy table that stood in front of the hearth of his one room shanty. He was a pig of a man, short and squat, wearing unkempt and unlaundered clothes which were covered in stains borne from grease and sweat. His beady, watery eyes scanned the cluttered wooden surface for a spoon, but to no avail. He had just begun to wonder how he was going to eat his meal, when he spied a piece of bread beneath a dirty plate. He sniffed at it with his large turned up snout of a nose and his thin lips broke into a wide grin showing the green tint of his few remaining teeth. He wiped the half-eaten loaf across his filthy shirt before scratching at the back of his balding head. The chair beneath him creaked while he wiggled his large buttocks around to get comfortable. As he tore into the piece of stale bread and dunked it into the onion soup that was his supper, he let out a hearty chuckle.

"Stupid bitch." he mumbled cheerfully to himself as he chewed on the soggy mass of food in his mouth.

That pirate wench was about to get hers and good. They made a bargain after all, and sixty days was a good deal for the little bit she gave him in return. The thought of poking her again caused a stirring in his groin. She was a good lay, he had to give her that much. He just hoped that the Divine's representatives wouldn't show up until after he had the chance to take her to his bed again.

_Yes,_ the harbormaster thought _it was a fair deal. _At least until that little whore had to send that weird elf to threaten him, in his own home no less. Nobody threatened Cordell Pinard and got away with it…nobody.

A sudden gust of wind blew the lone window of his shack open, ripping the ragged moldy piece of cloth that covered it into several smaller strands. The pieces of the makeshift curtain flew through the dark room and landed right in the harbormaster's soup.

"Andraste's ass!" he yelled as he pulled the doused cloth from his supper. He rung the pieces out and back into the bowl as best he could before limping to the window and latching it securely. As he hobbled back to his chair, he cursed the elf that broke his leg. The knife-ear must have used some sort of magic, because he somehow reached in under the fat man's skin and snapped Cordell's femur in half without leaving a single mark.

When the harbormaster was on his way to see the physician after the stranger stormed out of his house, he came across some very interesting posters that had been pinned up on a board outside the old Chantry. It seemed that the elf, the pirate and two of the other people that traveled with them had caused some trouble in Kirkwall and the Chantry was offering a sizeable reward for their capture.

Once he confirmed that all of them were long gone, he waited exactly thirty days and then sent word directly to the Divine in Val Royeax. He informed her Holiness that the Hawke and her friends would be returning to Jader sometime between the first and the tenth of Solis. That very morning, Cordell had finally received word that the Seekers would be in town on the first. The greedy little man could already see the gold sovereigns laid out in front of him. What made things even better was the fact that, not only would he receive the reward money from the Chantry, but he would also be able to keep the bitch's ship, which he would promptly sell for a very hefty profit.

The harbormaster stared down at his meager dinner and grinned wickedly. Soon he wouldn't have to live on moldy bread and watery soup. Soon he would feast like a king. With the coin he was going to receive, Cordell could have every woman in the Pink Lily five times over and still have enough left over to drink old Marlon at the Twin Tankard out of business.

Thinking of the ladies at the Pink Lily brought back the memory of the pirate wench's huge bare tits in his face, and Cordell slid his hand down in order to give himself some much needed relief. Just as the foul man began fishing in his trousers, a tremendous bolt of lightning split the sky and his door burst open, the wind dousing every light in the place, including the fire in the hearth.

Cordell could hear the rain begin to pour down outside and he began to worry that his small home might not survive such a squall. Just then, the thunder roared so loud that he had to cover his ears and it was followed closely by several bolts of lightning streaking across the sky. That's when the harbormaster spotted a tall man in a black hooded cloak standing in his open doorway.

"Wh…who are you?" stammered the smaller man. "What do you want?"

The stranger walked into the room and closed the door without even touching it. "I am looking for the people that came in on that brig in your harbor." he boomed in a deep voice.

"What brig?" questioned Cordell. As scary and imposing as this man was, the harbormaster was not ready to give up his dreams of ill-gotten gain. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The hooded man stomped toward him and blasted Cordell with a rush of icy air from his palm, throwing the smaller man into the wall at his back. "I will ask you only once more, fool. Where are they?"

The smaller man shook his head frantically, fearing for his life. The man who was now towering over him was a giant, standing at least a foot taller than Cordell, and to make matters worse, he was a mage…a very powerful, angry mage.

The harbormaster covered his head with his arms and cowered against the wall. "Please" he begged with a whimper. "Please don't hurt me. Those people...they said they were traveling south. They're supposed to return by the tenth of Solis."

The large man backed away a step and his voice seemed to soften a bit. "Did you happen to see any of them?"

"Y…yes." Cordell gulped. "All of them as a matter of fact."

"Did you get any names?"

"They were the ones that started those mage wars…The ones that destroyed that Chantry in the Free Marches and killed all them people."

The stranger was silent for several moments before he nodded and reached his hand inside his cloak. Cordell braced himself for his inevitable demise, but was pleasantly surprised when a small pouch of coins landed at his feet. He quickly grabbed the sack and wondered if there might be more where that came from if he volunteered further information.

"I don't know if it'll make any difference to you," he squeaked "but I do know that the Divine has sent her Seekers for them and they will be here by the first."

The man in black, who had just been walking toward the door, rounded on the harbormaster. "What?" he roared, his voice nearly shaking the rafters of the small shack. Before Cordell could utter a sound, the stranger had crossed the room, grabbed him by the collar and pinned him to the wall. "You didn't have anything to do with that did you?" he hissed.

The small man began to violently waggle his head in denial. "N…No sir. Not me." he lied.

The giant of a man pulled Cordell's face to his, but it was too dark to see any of the stranger's features. "If I find out that you had anything to do with this and if they are harmed in any way, _you_ are a dead man."

With those words, the cloaked stranger dropped Cordell to the ground with a loud thud. He turned and blew the heavy wooden door right off its hinges and into the waiting darkness before following it and disappearing into the night.

* * *

Emily awoke with a start the next morning, her entire body covered in a sheen of cold sweat and the long hair at her back sticking to her skin. She was panting as she closed her eyes and brushed wet curls from her cheeks and forehead. The recurring dream that she thought was a thing of the past had haunted her once again. It was always the same, from beginning to end and this time was no different.

It started out with the morning after she and Anders became engaged. He kissed her goodbye and went to work, but did not return. Instead of finding him at his clinic as she actually did, in her dream, Emily searched all over to no avail. Then the world went dark as she continued her investigation into her love's whereabouts. It seemed as if she walked forever in the terrible blackness, when a brilliant red light rose up from inside the nearby city and rubble began falling all around her. She then turned to see the sun rising over the top of Sundermount and when she looked down, she saw Anders lying dead at her feet, his cold amber eyes staring lifelessly up at her.

Emily pulled her knees to her chest and began to rock slowly. She hadn't had that nightmare since the night she met Alistair. She wondered what that meant, or if it even meant anything at all. Did it have something to do with what the prince had been avoiding telling her? As much as Emily loved Alistair, there was a large part of her that still missed Anders, the way he used to be before she had the miscarriage…the way he was on the day he asked her to be his bride. Her tear ducts opened like the pump of a spring-fed well and she felt tears begin to stream down her cheeks. Normally she would try to stop them, to wipe them away and steel herself against them, but this time she didn't…this time she didn't want to.

Isabela's tanned face suddenly appeared from the mage's tent flap. "Hey sweetpea. We are getting ready to leave and I thought you might want to…you know…say goodbye or something."

Emily sniffed loudly and swiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. "I'll be right out." she promised in a shaky voice.

"You had that dream again didn't you?" the pirate observed. "Are you going to be okay?"

The mage nodded. "Yeah…just give me a minute."

"Sure sweetie." Isabela smiled sympathetically. "Take all the time you need."

Emily slowly dressed and pulled her hair back, trying to give herself time to gain her composure and reduce the puffiness her eyes always managed to take on when she cried. After she emerged from her shelter and into the light, she had to admit that the cool breeze and warm rays of the sun felt good on her skin.

She spotted Isabela, Fenris and Nadia with their packs strapped to their shoulders and ready to go. The pirate surprised her by walking over and giving her a warm hug. "Take care of yourself, you hear?" she whispered. "We'll see you soon."

"Promise?" asked the mage.

"You have my solemn vow." giggled the pirate. "And if you mention the Tome of Koslun, I swear to the Maker that I'll slap you, Hawke."

Emily held out the end of her fist and the pirate gave it a quick bump with her own before returning to the place she had been standing before.

Nadia was the next one to approach the mage. She held out her hand and the two women clasped forearms. "May the blessed eidola keep you Hawke."

"And you as well, Nadia." Emily replied.

Finally Fenris headed toward her, but turned when he reached Alistair and held out his hand. The prince had a confused expression when he took the elf's wrist. Fenris gave the other man a curt nod and said, "Take care Alistair. I expect you to guard Hawke with your life, just as I would."

The prince's eyes narrowed. "I could do no less, Fenris." he assured the elf. "Be careful out there."

One corner of Fenris's lips turned up before he turned his attention to Emily and continued walking toward her. He took both of her hands into his and stared into her emerald eyes, his own deep green orbs filled with worry. "Please try to keep out of trouble while I am away, mal amica. I know it follows you like a shadow, but promise me that you will at least _attempt _to side-step it."

The mage chuckled. "You know me Fenris."

"Yes," he interrupted "which is why I gave you that advice. I promised that I would never leave your side, Hawke…I feel as if I am breaking that oath."

Emily shook her head with a warm smile. "You are not breaking your oath. We will see each other soon, mal amica. I promise." She then wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. "You are the best friend I have ever had." she whispered into his ear. "Thank you for caring so much about me, but don't worry. I will be fine."

In a very un-Fenris like gesture, he lightly kissed her cheek. "And as your best friend, you know that I will worry about you every minute that I'm away."

Emily embraced the elf even tighter and brushed the left side of his face with her soft lips. "I love you, mal amica."

Fenris put a hand to her cheek and pursed his lips. "And I you, Hawke…stay safe my friend."

With one final wave goodbye, Emily's three companions disappeared into the forest. "Maker watch over them." she prayed in a low voice. When she turned to begin packing her things, she spotted Alistair staring at her with a puzzled frown.

_Let him be jealous, _she thought bitterly. _I don't have the time or patience for his shit today. _

As she gathered her gear, Emily realized that if what happened between her and Fenris bothered Alistair, he decided not to say anything about it. He did seem moodier than usual, however, and didn't say a word to anyone when they finally started out again for Haven. In fact, he remained silent until they came across several magical traps which had been laid along the path leading up to the village. Once those started appearing, the prince immediately resumed his usual protectiveness of the woman he professed to love and by the time they finally reached Haven, he was acting more normal than she had seen him in a long time.

It was after dusk by the time they reached their destination. Once inside the hidden village, the three companions began to look around but they found no sign of life whatsoever. Alistair's shoulders slumped. "Maybe I was wrong." he confessed.

Anion shook his head slowly. "No, Alistair. You were not wrong. There are gifted here…I can feel it." Suddenly the healer held up his hands and cast a protection spell on himself and his two friends just before a bolt of lightning barreled toward them.

An elderly female mage wearing heavy robes and brandishing an iron staff, appeared from the dark alleyway between two nearby houses. "I don't know who you are, but this is your final warning. Leave this place, or suffer the consequences."

Alistair chuckled as he folded his arms over his broad chest. "You always did know how to make an entrance Wynne."


	39. Chapter 39

The enchanter's lids constricted as she stared at the prince for a long moment. "Alistair? Is that really you?"

"In the flesh, dear lady." he replied, bowing with a flourish.

"It is refreshing to see that you have not changed completely." she giggled. "And who are your…"

Wynne's words trailed off when she spotted Emily. _Dear Maker, _thought the younger mage _here we go again._

"Wynne," Alistair interjected "this isn't Erin…"

It was the enchanter's turn to interrupt. "Of course it isn't. Only a drunken fool would think otherwise, but she is a very powerful mage." She addressed Emily. "What is your name, dear?"

"I am Emily Hawke, but most people just call me Hawke." the younger woman replied.

"Any relation to Malcolm?"

"Yes," answered a surprised Emily "he was my father. But how did you know him?"

"Your father and I were around the same age dear and we came to the Circle at about the same time. I am not sure if you are aware of this fact, but he was originally part of the Ferelden Circle. During his time there, he and I became quite…close you might say. Malcolm wouldn't stay put however, and First Enchanter Remille grew tired of his constant escape attempts so he was hauled off to the Gallows in Kirkwall where he could be watched more closely. Although from my understanding, that didn't work either and he ended up running away with a nobleman's daughter whom he had gotten pregnant. The last news I heard about Malcolm was that he was an apostate living somewhere in Ferelden."

The younger mage nodded sadly. "Yes, he spent his remaining years here in Ferelden, he died when I was seventeen."

Wynne's face took on an expression of sorrow. "I am sorry for your loss. He was a good man and an outstanding healer."

Emily could only manage a quiet "thank you" in response to the older woman's words.

The enchanter's eyes moved to the young mage standing behind Emily and she took a quick step back. "Oh my." she blurted, before she hastily regained her composure. "I am sorry, young man…it's just that you look almost exactly like a former apprentice of mine."

"Anders was your apprentice?" Emily inquired.

Wynne laughed. "Yes, as a spirit healer, it was my duty to train those whose talents leaned toward creation magic, and Anders is probably the most gifted healer I have ever met…But how do you know him?"

"He was my lifemate." explained the younger mage. "He was lost after the Battle of Kirkwall."

The enchanter's head bobbed up and down knowingly. "Again, I am sorry for your loss. It does not surprise me that the daughter of Malcolm Hawke would be drawn to Anders, though. They were so _much_ alike." Wynne returned her attention to Anion. "And you are…?"

"My name is Anion." the young healer replied. "Anders was my father…though he did not know of my existence."

"You inherited his gift then?"

Anion nodded. "Yes, I am a healer."

"Good." proclaimed Wynne with an approving grin. "There are far too few of us with any real talent for the craft left in Thedas." She then circled to Alistair. "Not to be rude, Alistair because it is good to see you again, but what in the Maker's name are you doing here?"

"Arl Teagan told us that you were leading a group of mages who had escaped from the Tower." the prince answered. "We were hoping to talk you into helping us drive the Tevinters out of Ferelden."

The older woman shook her head. "There are only twenty-five of us Alistair, some barely more than children, and most with no real training in offensive magic. I am unsure how we could be of any real assistance to you."

"Honestly, Wynne, we need all of the help we can get." Emily confessed. "We are going to be facing Tevinter magisters which means we will need to have as many mages as we can on our side."

"I am sure that the Divine will send troops to Ferelden to straighten this out soon." posed the enchanter. "I do not see why my charges should risk their lives needlessly before then."

"But the Divine is not sending any troops." Alistair explained. "She has been informed of what's going on here, and she believes that bringing the mages back under Chantry control is more important."

Wynne's brow furrowed with confusion and concern. "So the Divine believes that rogue mages who only fight to have the same freedoms as everyone else are worse than an Imperial takeover?" The older mage's expression turned to one of ire. "This is unbelievable…I always thought that it was the Chantry's position to protect Andraste's followers. How could they just leave the people of Ferelden to their own devices like this?" She peered at Alistair skeptically. "Are you sure about this? Where did you hear of this news regarding the Divine?"

"Arl Teagan spoke to the Divine personally." the prince replied. "He even took irrefutable evidence with him to prove his claims. Her Holiness didn't care. She basically said that Ferelden had to take care of its own problems."

"And Teagan told you this himself?" questioned the mage.

"Yes," answered Alistair before adding "but there's more."

Wynne put the fingertips of her right hand to her mouth for a long moment as she pondered the things that she had just learned. She looked around at the younger mages who had come out of their hiding places since she had begun speaking to Alistair and his friends. "Maybe we should find someplace more private to talk about this." She pointed to a small nearby cottage. "That is my home. If you would care to join me, we can speak more on these things over supper. You must be famished after such a long trek up the mountain."

"I _am _feeling a bit peckish now that you mention it" admitted the prince.

The enchanter chuckled a bit and motioned them toward her abode. Once inside, as Wynne busied herself preparing a modest meal for her guests, Emily and Alistair began to explain everything that they had learned since returning to Ferelden. When they got to the part about Flemeth, the older mage dropped the wooden spoon she was using right into the kettle.

"What's wrong Wynne?" inquired the prince.

The woman shook her head before casting a minor enchantment to retrieve the cooking utensil. She moved it to the crock she kept for dirty dishes and grabbed another spoon. "It's nothing really." she said with a disconcerted scowl. "It's just that...only days before the Imperial soldiers arrived at the Tower, I was strolling the grounds and Flemeth seemed to appear out of nowhere. She advised me that there was something I was given on my travels during the Blight that I should retrieve and hold on to, that this thing would be the key to finding shelter in the upcoming storm. At that moment, I had no idea what she was talking about. Then, just before she left me, she told me that in the midst of the storm, a familiar light would shine upon me and I should follow it wherever it leads.

After she was gone, I puzzled over her words for quite some time before I finally realized that she was talking about the map Erin gave me. The day I retrieved it from the vault was the day the soldiers came. Up until now, though, I hadn't understood what the rest of her words meant."

"What do you mean?" asked Emily.

"The familiar light she spoke of…I believe she was speaking of the three of you."

"The three of us?" the younger mage puzzled "But Alistair is the only one of us you know."

"Yes," explained Wynne "but I am connected to all three of you in one way or another. Alistair I traveled with during the Blight. I still consider Malcolm Hawke as one of my closest childhood friends, and Anion, your father was my apprentice. You are all familiar to me in one way or another."

"So does this mean that you will help us?" queried the prince.

The enchanter let out a long breath before shrugging her shoulder. "While I am not normally in the habit of taking advice or instruction from a witch, I feel that this is one time that I should probably listen. I will do whatever you require of me."

"Thank you, Wynne." Emily smiled and the two men repeated her gesture.

During dinner and for the remainder of the evening, the four of them discussed current events and battle plans for the eve of Satinalia. After discovering that the former priest of Haven's Chantry was a mage, Emily urged Wynne to find all of the spellbooks she could and then begin training the other mages to use better offensive magic which the Circle wouldn't allow them to learn. By the time they decided to turn in for the evening, their plans were all set and Wynne agreed to take her mages to meet Teagan in the caves near Denerim by the twenty-ninth of Harvestmere.

Just as they were finishing up, Anion began to try to stifle a series of yawns that he had been overcome with. "I apologize." he said with embarrassment after the fourth one. "I do not mean to be rude."

Wynne placed a gentle hand on the side of the young healer's face. "You poor dear. You must be exhausted." she observed sympathetically. "I have an extra room right here that I insist that you take for the night. I'm sure you haven't had an opportunity to sleep in a real bed for quite some time."

Anion shook his head. "I appreciate your offer, but I do not want to be a burden."

The enchanter waved away his concerns. "Nonsense. It is no trouble at all. The bed is already made up and I will not take no for an answer young man."

The younger healer smiled politely. "Thank you."

As Wynne led Anion to her home's spare bedroom, Emily stood and hefted her pack onto her shoulders. Since the older woman only had one extra room, the brunette mage assumed that she and Alistair would just set up their tents outside. After the couple had gathered all of their gear, they waited for Wynne to return to the cottage's main room so they could say their goodnights. When the enchanter did finally return to the room, however, she headed over to the small bench that stood next to the door and began to slip on her shoes.

Emily supposed that the older woman was simply going to show them where to set up their things when she led them outside, but instead motioned for them to follow her up a nearby hill. The younger mage and the prince followed the enchanter to a darkened house that sat off to the side away from the others. Wynne held the door open and, right after she lit the wood that sat in the fireplace with a flame spell, she ushered them both inside.

The small cottage was warm, inviting and surprisingly tidy for a place that was apparently unoccupied. When the older woman noticed Emily's puzzled expression, she grinned.

"Esmerelda is a bit obsessive about cleanliness." the enchanter explained. "She goes into both of the vacant homes in the village and cleans them twice a week. She says that it gives her something to do, but I have known her long enough to know that she cannot stand even the_ thought_ of a mess."

"It's very cozy." Emily observed.

"Yes, it is." agreed Wynne. "I almost chose it to be my home, but I decided that I needed to be closer to the others and this one is just a bit out of the way." She pointed to the two doors on the opposite wall. "The door to the right is one of the bedrooms." she explained. "The one on the left is the washroom which has a very nice tub." She then gestured to the set of steps leading up from the small kitchen. "Upstairs is the second bedroom. If the beds aren't already made, there should be linens in the wardrobe in the washroom along with any towels you might need."

"Thank you Wynne." Alistair grinned. "It will be nice to have a hot bath for a change instead of a short wash in a cold creek."

The older mage laughed. "Yes, I recall how much you hated camping, Alistair. I thought this might be a nice change for you." She walked over, picked up two large buckets from the floor and handed them to the prince. "But you will have to fetch the water yourself…the pump is on the right side of the house next to the garden gate."

Alistair grimaced at the containers in his hand before heading out the door to fill them. Once he was outside, Wynne turned to Emily with narrowed eyes.

"So what is going on between the two of you?" she questioned.

Emily shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure myself." she answered honestly. "I thought that there was…something between us, but he's been acting very strangely for a few weeks now." The younger mage wasn't entirely sure why she told Wynne that. It was really none of her business after all, but something about the older woman put Emily at ease.

"I see." nodded the enchanter. After a few minutes of awkward silence, the older woman sighed. "It is getting late and I think these old bones are due for a rest."

"Of course." Emily smiled. "Thank you for everything, Wynne."

"Enjoy your bath dear." remarked the older mage as she headed out the door.

Once Wynne had departed, Emily decided to take a look around the cottage. First she went to the washroom and upon seeing the tub had to agree with Wynne about how nice it was. In fact, its size and quality were almost comparable to the one in her Kirkwall estate. She then ventured to the main floor bedroom. It was small, as if it were once a child's room which was made more evident by the single bed that was pushed against the far wall. The upstairs room was a different story however. It was completely open with a large four-poster bed taking up a good part of the space. Her curiosity got the better of her when she noticed all of the drawers in the dresser and nightstands and she began snooping through them. After searching every piece of furniture, and finding nothing, the mage's attention returned to the large comfortable looking bed. Even though she was covered with dust from the road, Emily just had to test it. She walked to the railing of the balcony, took a running leap, twirled sideways in mid-air and landed on her back with a bounce.

"That looks like fun." Alistair laughed from the top step.

"Yeah," the mage answered with a giggle. "You should try it."

"Maybe later." he shrugged dismissively. "Tub's all ready."

"So quickly?" inquired Emily.

"Yeah, Wynne ended up helping me after all. She even heated the water for us."

Emily guessed that the older mage must have wanted to have a private conversation with Alistair before she went home for the evening, and by the look on the prince's face, the young mage could tell that it wasn't a pleasant one. "Well, I'm not quite ready to get my ass up off this bed yet." she smirked. "So why don't you go first?"

"Are you sure?" he asked. "That water's going to get awfully dirty by the time I'm finished, not to mention cold."

"That's okay." Emily countered. "I'm a mage remember. If you just get me some more water when you're finished, I can take care of the rest."

"I suppose I could do that." he agreed. He started to descend the stairs, when he circled and regarded her with an arched brow. "Oh and just so you know, you might want to change that coverlet before you go to bed because you left a dirt outline on it where you landed."

"_Thanks_." The mage countered sarcastically. Without another word, Alistair walked downstairs, leaving Emily alone once more. She was suddenly reminded of the morning on the ship when he told her that she wasn't allowed to leave his side without giving him a kiss first. Even though it had been less than two months, it seemed like a lifetime ago. Alistair had gone from being the man of her dreams to barely being a friend. He rarely talked to her and never touched or kissed her. Even though he said that he loved her, he certainly didn't treat her that way.

Emily covered her eyes with her forearm and sighed. What the hell was wrong with her? Why did she always have to choose men that were so damaged? Surely there was someone who would stay at her side and love her no matter what. After their conversation, she finally understood why Fenris had walked out on her. She even understood where things had gone wrong with Anders, but for the life of her, she couldn't comprehend Alistair's behavior.

At some point during her musings, Emily had fallen asleep only to be woken by the feel of Alistair's lips on her cheek. She blinked her eyes open to see him lying next to her, wearing only a pair of tan breeches and propping his temple on the knuckles of his left hand.

"I wasn't going to wake you" he admitted with a sexy smirk "but I thought you might hurt me if you didn't get the chance to have a bath before we got back on the road in the morning."

The mage grinned. "You're right, I would have hurt you."

He snickered before tweaking her nose. "Everything's all ready for you."

After Emily thanked him, she headed downstairs and into the washroom. She quickly heated the fresh water Alistair brought in for her before stripping bare and slipping into the tub. Once she was completely clean she hurriedly dried herself and slipped into a clean pair of black smalls and a fresh linen shirt she had found in the wardrobe. The shirt, which had obviously belonged to a man, was a much thinner weave than what the mage was accustomed to wearing and when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror she noticed that it did nothing to hide what the Maker gave her. She considered trying to find something else to wear, but changed her mind when she thought about Alistair's impending reaction to her appearance.

Emily quickly ran a brush through her damp locks, applied a touch of make-up and just a dab of perfume before taking a deep breath and opening the door that led back into the main room.

* * *

Once Emily shut the washroom door behind her, Alistair hurriedly changed the coverlet on the large bed she had been lying on. For the first time since they met, they were finally completely alone. The night, the cottage, the bed…everything was perfect for their first time together. The setting was everything he had waited and hoped for.

He sat down on the side of the bed and placed his face in his palms. _I can't do this. _Alistair thought. _How can I make love to her and then turn around and break her heart?_

He didn't want to hurt her any more than he had to, but at the same time, he needed to be with her…Just one perfect night with her, not caring about anything else…one night to forget Erin, Morrigan, Tevinter and his duty to the crown…one night just for them to shut the world out and just be in love…one night to bear his heart and soul to her, to show her his true feelings.

The prince sat there for what seemed an eternity wrestling with himself about what he really wanted and what he needed to do. The sound of creaking stairs at his back brought him out of his thoughts. When he circled and saw Emily standing at the top step, his breath caught in his throat. She smiled at him and he swallowed hard. She was always beautiful, but he had never seen her look as amazing as she did right then. She was wearing a thin white shirt that barely covered a pair of black smallclothes, and the linen of the top was sheer enough for him to see the curves of her perfect breasts. Her damp hair hung loosely down her shoulders and back in large waves and brought out her sparkling emerald-green eyes.

"What?" she asked with a coquettish smirk.

"Maker, you're beautiful." Alistair breathed. He stood and approached Emily, not caring that his trousers were bulging from the mere sight of her. His mouth found hers and he pulled her in close to his body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her left leg around his hip. His hands moved down the sides of her body until they reached her upper thighs and he lifted her up until both of her muscular legs were wrapped around his waist.

Their tongues continued to dance together as he carried her to the bed and laid her down gently. He pressed his excitement into her and she moaned loudly as she entangled her fingers into his hair.

She whispered his name in a husky voice when his lips began to make their way down her neck. The noble part of his brain began to scream at him to stop, but his need for her kept pushing him forward when she began grinding against him. The smell of her freshly washed hair mixed with her perfume, the taste of her skin, was driving him mad with a hunger he had never felt before. He kissed his way back up to her lips and propped himself up with his forearms. Emily's cheeks were flushed with desire and her green eyes begged him to take her.

"I love you Alistair." she breathed with desperation.

That was it. His heavy heart sank to the pit of his stomach and he hung his head in shame. She loved him, but most of all, he loved her. No matter how much he wanted her, no needed her, he couldn't be that man. He couldn't make love to her and then tear her heart to pieces the next day. As long as he had been avoiding it, he had to tell her the truth. She had to know why he was about to push her away. She deserved no less.

He ran his fingers through her damp curls and searched her eyes. "I love you too, Emily." he whispered before letting out a long breath. He shook his head. "Which is why…which is why we can't do this."

"What do you mean Alistair?" she asked, her longing for him replaced with hurt and confusion.

"I cannot make love to you because…because we have to end this."

"But why?" she questioned. "Did I do something wrong?"

He caressed her cheek tenderly. "No, sweetheart. You didn't do anything wrong." he explained hoarsely. The heart-stricken expression on her face was tearing him apart. "I hadn't thought about the fact that I am expected to take the throne when this is all finished." He sat up and put his feet to the floor. His shoulders sagged and his head bowed low as he continued. "Because you are a mage, we can never be together. The law forbids us to marry and I will be expected to have an heir of non-magical blood. The only other outcome from this is one of our deaths…either way, there is no future for us…I am so sorry."

Silence filled the room, broken only by the sound of their breathing. Emily said nothing in response, but he felt the bed move as she sat upright. Alistair put his hands to the side of the bed to push himself up, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to look into her tear filled emerald eyes.

She shook her head slowly. "Don't go, Alistair." she whispered. "Even if this is the end for us, I want you to stay. I understand what you are saying…and all I ask is for this one night. I want you to make love to me, and in the morning…in the morning we can say that it is at an end."

He ran his fingers through her hair and wrinkled his brow. "Are you sure, Emily?"

She nodded with a sad smile. "Yes, I've never been more sure of anything."

When her lips touched his, he felt a small spark of electricity just before she pulled him down to the bed with her. He pulled back long enough to lift her shirt over her head and then found his place in her arms once again. He kissed down her body and felt her nails dig into his back when he covered one of her erect nipples with his mouth. He spent a great deal of time kissing and caressing her breasts before tracing his tongue down her abdomen and to her inner thighs. He reveled in her taste as his tongue moved across the material of her smalls and her hips bucked forward when he covered her mound with his mouth. His fingers found her waistband and tugged her undergarment down her legs and over her feet. His tongue found the small nub that was nestled in her flower and he began to gently stroke it. He felt more sparks as he pushed his fingers inside and her body rocked through her first orgasm.

When she had finally stopped trembling, he rolled over and pulled down his trousers. She was still panting when he slid his body back up between her thighs and pressed the tip of his manhood against her opening. He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers and smirked. His hazel eyes gazed into her emerald orbs and he whispered, "I love you, Emily." just as he entered her.

He moved his hips slowly as she wrapped both her arms and legs around his body. The world had stopped its spinning and time stood still as he made love to her. Never in his life had he dreamed that being with a woman could be so perfect. Just when Alistair thought that it couldn't get any better, Emily found her release again. When she did, her body heat rose and he felt a warm rush flow over his manhood, followed closely by the tingling of electricity. Even though he wasn't ready to stop and he tried to prevent it, he felt his own release wash over him. As his seed left his body, he kissed Emily's lips with desperate passion unlike any he had ever known.

When it was over and they had both stopped shaking, Alistair spent a long while just kissing Emily and professing his love for her over and over again. It was near dawn before he finally allowed her to fall asleep in his arms and he drifted off soon after.

The next morning, when he woke, he was alone. Sometime after he had gone to sleep, she had left him. His arms and his heart suddenly felt emptier than they ever had. In that moment, he realized that he was even more in love with Emily than before and he wondered how he was ever going to make it through the rest of his life without feeling her embrace again.


	40. Chapter 40

As Emily packed her things, she couldn't stop the tears that were stinging her eyes. _Oh stop blubbering, Hawke, _she told herself. _It isn't like you haven't been through this before. Besides, you knew it was coming. _

As usual, her "pep talk" wasn't working. It hadn't worked with Fenris or Anders and it sure as hell wasn't working with Alistair. At least this time she knew the truth and the prince's reasons were actually valid. He didn't push her away because he was afraid of intimacy or because a vengeful spirit had taken hold of him, he pushed her away out of duty to his country…her country. Still, that knowledge did little to help the stabbing pain she was feeling in her heart and in her gut.

The mage had hoped to be back at Wynne's cottage before Alistair came downstairs, but she figured out that she wasn't that lucky when she heard the upstairs floor creaking with his footsteps. She hurriedly headed for the washroom and shut the door behind her, clicking the lock in place. Her breath came in short gasps as she pressed her back to the wooden surface and tried once more to gain her composure.

How was she ever going to face him after the previous night? If she thought her feelings ran deep before, they were nothing compared to what she felt after they made love. Emily had to question the sanity of her decision of asking him to stay the night with her, but at the same time, she didn't regret it. What she would have regretted was letting him go without ever knowing what it was like to have that bond with him.

She walked over to the small basin in the corner and poured in some water she had pumped earlier. Not even bothering to heat it, she splashed the cold liquid on her face several times and then dried her skin with a fresh towel. After running a brush through her long hair, she tied it back with the ribbon she had left on the floor the previous night and took a look in the mirror. Her eyes were still slightly puffy so she tried to cover up the evidence of her crying with a bit of make-up. After one more glance in the looking glass and deciding that it was the best she was going to be able to do, she braced herself with a deep breath and walked back into the main room.

Emily combed her surroundings with her eyes, but did not see Alistair anywhere. He must have made very short work of packing and headed out so he could avoid her. She knew that things between them were going to be awkward for a while, but she hoped they would be able to put everything aside enough to be able to work together.

When she got back to Wynne's house, the enchanter and both men were sitting at the table eating the morning meal that the older woman had prepared. Emily silently took a seat next to Anion and noticed that Alistair was refraining from making eye contact with her.

"So, how did you sleep dear?" Wynne asked as she placed a plate stacked with sausages, eggs and toast in front of Emily.

"Fine, thank you." the younger mage replied as she peered down at her plate. Her stomach was upset and she wasn't sure that she was going to be able to eat anything without it coming back up on her. "The bed was very comfortable."

As if reading Emily's thoughts, the enchanter poured a fresh cup of tea and placed it next to the younger woman's plate. Wynne placed a gentle hand on Emily's shoulder and gave her a sad, knowing smile. Somehow, she had guessed what happened between the couple and she seemed to empathize with Emily's plight.

After breakfast, when they were getting ready to leave, Wynne asked Anion and Alistair to wait outside for a few minutes so she and Emily could have a chat. Once the men were gone, the enchanter turned to the dark-haired mage and sighed.

"I am sorry, dear." she stated sadly. "I had a feeling that things were going to end up the way they did when I set the two of you up in that cottage. Are you alright?"

Emily shrugged. "I'll be fine."

"Believe me when I say that I know what you are going through." Wynne confessed as she sat in one of the wooden chairs next to the table. She gestured for the younger woman to take the seat next to her before continuing. "I was in love once…with a templar. I even bore his son. I never told anyone who the father was and in the end, he chose his duty to the Chantry over me. He left Ferelden for the Starkhaven Circle before the child was even born. It broke my heart, but it _was _for the best. Our relationship would have never worked, and we both knew that, no matter how much we loved each other."

Emily chewed at her bottom lip until she recognized the taste of her blood as she attempted once again to hold back her tears. "It is the same with you and Alistair." Wynne added. "It is easy to see how much you love each other. He adores you, it's written all over his face. But there are much more important things at stake here."

"I know." the younger mage sniffed. "I have accepted that…but that doesn't make this any easier."

The older woman brushed Emily's hair back and nodded. "I know dear, but it will get better. Trust me."

Without thinking about it, the young woman put her arms around the enchanter and gave her a warm hug. In so many ways, Wynne reminded Emily of her own mother. After a few minutes, the brunette backed away and gingerly ran her fingertips across her eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

Wynne's lips tightened into a smile of understanding. "No need to apologize. I've been told that my shoulders are excellent for crying upon."

The enchanter's words made Emily giggle which also reminded the mage of Leandra. Her mother always had a way of making her smile when she was really down. "Thank you." she told the older woman gratefully.

Wynne stood. "I hate to say it, but it is a long journey back to the main road, and you should probably be on your way so you can make it before dark."

Once they were back outside, Emily and Alistair both hugged the older woman goodbye and headed back toward the path leading down the mountain. They walked in silence the entire way and when they finally made camp that night, Emily went to bed without supper. She lay in her tent for what seemed like hours, unable to get even a wink of sleep.

When she heard something outside of her tent, she quickly grabbed the dagger she normally kept at her belt and lay perfectly still, waiting for whoever or whatever it was to enter.

"Emily." she heard Alistair whisper and she relaxed her grip on her weapon. "May I speak to you for a moment?"

"Sure." she sighed as she threw a blanket over her shoulders.

She crawled out of her tent to find the prince pacing back and forth next to her shelter. When he turned to face her, Emily could see that he was upset. His hair was mussed and his eyes were puffy. He stumbled a bit as he stepped toward her and she could smell the Wilder whiskey on his breath. It was the first time she had seen him like that since they left the ship. He ran his fingers through the hair at the top of his head and opened his mouth to speak, but only a long moan escaped his lips.

"Never mind." he finally croaked dejectedly, pivoted on his heel and began walking back to his tent.

"Alistair." called the mage. "Please don't go. I think we should talk about this."

Without so much as a glance in her direction, his head dropped down and he moved it back and forth. "There's nothing to talk about Emily…I'm sorry I bothered you." She watched as he slowly staggered back to his side of the camp and waited until he was safely back inside his shelter before she returned to hers.

As she lay on her bedroll once again not sleeping, Emily made up her mind then and there that she was going to make him talk about it the next day whether he liked it or not.

* * *

Alistair came to the following morning with a pounding head and an aching back. He realized that he had drunk the entire bottle of homemade spirits Nadia's father gave him at about the same time he recognized the huge rock in his back. It seemed that in his hurry to get his tent up and begin drinking, he neglected to check for large stones. He was so numb when he passed out that he didn't feel the rock, but he was sure feeling it when he woke.

The previous evening was a blur. He downed the bottle so fast that he didn't remember much of what happened afterward. Then he recalled going to Emily's tent and he grimaced in frustration. What did he say to her? His head hurt so badly that he just couldn't think. He only hoped that he hadn't made a complete fool of himself.

He looked down at the empty bottle lying next to him and sighed. What was he doing? He realized that he had given up the best thing that ever happened to him, but was that any reason to turn back to the bottle? He was going to be king and that meant that he had to try to hold himself to a higher standard. If he was just going to go back to hiding in a bottle, he might as well just completely abdicate the throne, and if he was going to renounce his crown, he had no reason to not be with the woman he loved.

He slowly ran his hand across his face and pursed his lips. The truth was that he could no longer be the man he was and even if he and Emily couldn't be together, he would make her proud of him. He would make her know that their sacrifice hadn't been in vain.

He gathered up his things and packed everything up before seeking out Anion to help him relieve the aching in his head. The healer was reluctant at first, but finally gave in when Alistair swore that he would never ask again. Once his vision cleared and he began to feel better, the prince scanned the camp to find Emily. He finally spotted her leaning against a tree just inside the wood line and made his way to her.

"Feeling better?" she asked, her voice colder than Alistair ever remembered hearing it.

"I…I want to apologize," he stammered "if I said or…did anything to offend you last night."

She waggled her head. "Don't worry, you didn't really say anything at all."

"Well…that's a good thing…right?" he questioned.

Emily took his hands into hers and his heart skipped a beat. Feeling her touch was almost more than his heart could stand. "Alistair, we need to talk about this." she began "we can't go on avoiding each other. We have a job to do." She shook her head as she looked into his eyes, her own emerald orbs set with determination. "I have been through this before as you probably already know, and maintaining a friendship _is _possible." She shrugged. "We just have to pretend that everything is normal and pretty soon it will be."

Alistair wondered if it was just that easy for her to let go of her feelings for him. He couldn't even begin to imagine how to do that. "I'm sorry." he whispered. "I…I just love you so much…I…"

She touched his cheek and gave him a sad smile. "I love you too, Alistair. I really do, and I don't see that ever changing, but we have to put that aside. There is too much at stake here and we don't have a choice. You and I both know that this is the way it has to be."

He nodded. "I know." he whispered before kissing her lightly on the cheek. "By the way…I wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"For giving me that night." he replied. "Being with you that way…it meant more to me than you could possibly know and I will carry that in my heart…always."

She leaned over and nuzzled his nose with hers. "I feel exactly the same way." she said in a quiet voice before tenderly kissing his lips and walking back toward their camp, leaving him standing there feeling his heart shatter into even smaller pieces than before.

* * *

Fenris, Isabela and Nadia arrived back in Jader two days ahead of schedule by taking a shortcut through Sulcher's pass. Isabela had always heard it was possible, but when she decided to head in that direction, she did have a few doubts. She had to admit that she was quite proud of herself for taking such initiative and decided to treat her friends to a drink at the Twin Tankard.

When they entered the inn, however, something seemed…off. The patrons were unusually quiet and the bartender refused to look them in the eye. When the serving girl passed out their ales, Nadia shifted nervously in her chair. Once the barmaid was gone, the Wilder woman leaned in and spoke in a low voice. "I do not like this place."

Isabela nodded. "It does seem a bit weird in here, doesn't it?"

"It is too quiet." Fenris agreed.

Nadia's eyes moved quickly to the far table in the room that was set in the shadows and then back to her companions. "There is a man sitting over there alone…he is watching us."

Fenris stole a glance to the corner and narrowed his eyes. "She is correct."

Isabela, whose back was to the corner, casually turned and scanned the room until she saw what the other two were talking about. She took a long drink from her mug and leaned forward. "So what do you think we should do about Messere tall dark and scary?"

"I think we should finish our drinks quickly and move on." Nadia offered.

Isabela chewed her bottom lip for a moment. "But we need a crew and the best place to hire one is in a tavern like this."

Fenris studied a knothole in the table for several minutes before addressing the pirate's concern. "What about your Quartermaster or the bosun? Can't they do the hiring for you?"

"I suppose that will work." Isabela conceded. "But where should we go in the meantime?"

"Once we find your mates, maybe we should hide out in the ship until we're ready to sail…or at least until Hawke returns." suggested the elf.

It wasn't much of a plan, but at least it was something. Isabela nodded a silent agreement and quickly downed her ale. The other two followed suit and they stood to leave. The pirate had just thrown her coin down to pay for their drinks when the barmaid approached them. She stood right against Isabela, a little too close for the pirate's comfort as a matter of fact, and the captain felt the woman slip something into her hand. The serving girl leaned over and whispered into the Rivaini's ear. "That man in the corner asked me to give this to you."

Isabela sat down and slowly opened the folded piece of parchment that had been placed into her palm. Her brows furrowed together as she read the note.

"Well what does it say?" Fenris inquired softly.

"Whatever you do, do not return to your ship. The Seekers are here and they are looking for you. I have a plan to help you evade them, but you must meet me in the forest outside of town. Signed, A Friend."

"That is very strange, Isabela." Nadia observed. "I am not sure if we should do this."

Isabela shook her head and then turned it toward the man who sent the message. He was gone. The pirate pursed her lips and then scowled. "If the Seekers really are here, I don't see where we have much choice. I would rather take my chances with a complete stranger than with the personal agents of the Holy Divine, especially if they know who we are." She grimaced at the elf. "And you stick out like a sore thumb with those markings, Fenris."

"And you don't with those massive breasts?" quipped the elf.

The pirate rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine…but doesn't that give us even more incentive to trust this guy?"

Nadia folded her muscular arms over her chest. "I still don't like it, but I will follow your orders captain."

"As will I." Fenris concurred.

After one more quick glimpse around the room, Isabela and her friends casually made their way to the door. Once they were outside, the pirate directed them to don their hooded cloaks and they headed for the forest, making sure they weren't being followed once they stepped into the outskirts of the village.

They walked into the tree line and searched all around, but without any type of light, it was hard to see anything. Isabela had just about given up, when she noticed a small blue orb glowing softly in the distance. She headed toward the light until she was standing just feet from the stranger from the bar. He was extremely tall with broad shoulders and the light he held in his palm told her that he was a mage.

The pirate captain's eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms. "Okay, we're here. Is there a reason you wanted us to come or were you just afraid to ask me for a date in the bar because you didn't want to be laughed at when I said no?"

"It's nice to see you again, too, Isabela." the mage retorted as he threw back his hood, "but you should know by now that you're not my type."


	41. Chapter 41

Emily and her two companions decided to stop for the night in Sulcher's pass. According to the mage's estimations, they were only two days away from Jader which was a good thing considering it was already the second of Solis. That meant they only had three days before Fenris wanted to leave Jader so they could be long gone before the Archon's arrival. Emily just hoped that Isabela was able to hire a crew rather quickly or they were never going to make it in time.

As she ate her supper, Emily glimpsed in Alistair's direction. As usual, he had been staring at her and she flashed a coy smile in his direction before returning her attention to her food. Things had settled down between them after their conversation and they began talking normally to each other again, yet they continued to flirt like shy teenagers.

Emily had first watch for the evening, so when Anion retired to his tent, she expected Alistair to follow suit. Instead he walked over to her place at the fire and sat down next to her.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked.

The mage snickered. "No." she replied, unable to keep the grin from her face.

"Do you mind if I sit here for a while."

She shook her head. "No."

Alistair arched a brow. "Is that all you're going to say to me?"

Emily had to bite her bottom lip to contain the girlish giggles she felt trying to rise to the surface. "No."

"Well," he smirked "I guess I'm going to have to try a different approach if I'm going to get you to say something besides 'no'."

She crossed her arms and pursed her lips, challenging him to try. His lips curled into that sexy crooked grin which always caused fluttering in her stomach and she sucked in a quick breath when he slowly and tenderly ran his index finger down the side of her face.

"Nothing, huh?"

Emily shook her head as he moved in closer and narrowed his lids. She could see mischief dancing in his hazel eyes as his face neared hers. Just when she thought he was about to kiss her, she felt his fingers on her ribcage as he began to tickle her sides. She began laughing so hard that she fell over causing Alistair to lose his balance and fall on top of her, but it didn't deter him a bit and he continued his assault on her by tickling down to her thighs.

"Okay, okay." she finally yelled. "I give up. You win."

Alistair laughed heartily as he propped himself up on his forearms above her. "You never had a chance and you know it."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you keep on believing that." she quipped playfully. "Maybe I just didn't want to hurt your manly feelings."

"Is that another challenge I hear?" he grinned as he moved his right hand back to her side.

"No," she begged as he began tickling her again. "Please stop…I surrender."

Alistair's hand moved away from her ribcage to under her shoulder. "Are you sure?"

She nodded frantically. "Yes, I'm sure. You have vanquished me and I remain your humble servant my lord."

As the prince gazed into Emily's green eyes, his smile faded. "You are so beautiful." he whispered. "Every time I look into your eyes, you take my breath away."

Before she realized what was happening, Alistair had brought his lips down to hers and they began kissing passionately. She felt him grow hard as he pressed his groin into hers. He reached his hand down and began loosening the strings of her corset as his tongue explored the inside of her mouth. Once her bodice was loose, he ran his hand up the inside of her blouse and began massaging her left breast as his lips made their way to her earlobe. He nipped at it gently and ran his tongue across it, causing her to gasp.

"Just one more night." he murmured hoarsely. "Please, Emily…I need you."

No matter how much she wanted to resist, she just couldn't do it. In answer to his pleas, she pulled him closer before flipping him over onto his back. Alistair pulled her mouth back down to his and she began to rock her hips back and forth. His hands moved down to her buttocks and he pushed them down so she was pressed into him even more. She felt his fingers tugging at the waistband of her leather breeches.

"Please…take these off." he begged. "I need to feel you."

As she complied with his request to remove her pants and small clothes, he pulled his own breeches down. As soon as her garments were off, he put his hands on her waist and guided her down onto him. She gasped when she felt him enter her and he grinned at her reaction.

"Come here." he commanded as he pulled her down for another kiss.

Emily's need for Alistair was overwhelming. She had been trying to fight the urge to be with him again since the night they had shared in Haven, but as he moved inside of her, she realized that she didn't want to resist. Nothing she had ever experienced came close to how she felt when she was with Alistair. Even Anders never made her feel that alive, that complete.

After bringing each other to the height of ecstasy, Emily collapsed onto Alistair's chest, panting. The cool night breeze felt good against the mage's hot skin as her lover tucked the stray tresses of her damp bangs behind her ear.

He softly kissed her forehead. "I love you, Emily." he whispered.

Her heart ached upon hearing those words. "I love you too, Alistair."

She kissed him once more before rolling over onto her back. She felt around for her pants and when she found them, she quickly pulled them back on. Alistair stood and helped her from the ground. Once she had found her feet, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, as if holding on for dear life.

"I know that shouldn't have happened," he admitted "but I'm not going to call it a mistake either. I'm not sorry for it Emily…but I'll understand if you are."

She shook her head against his muscular chest. "I'm not sorry for it either Alistair." She backed away from him and sighed heavily. "But this can't happen again."

"I know." he nodded before chuckling bitterly. "The bitch of it is…whether we do that or not, whether or not we even talk at all…it doesn't matter. I fall more in love with you every day…It's going to be hell trying to keep my distance when all I want to do is hold you and never let go."

Emily gave him as sad smile as she ran her fingers through his hair. "We have to try…no matter how much this hurts." She kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Alistair." she whispered softly before heading to her tent.

The next morning, Emily heard some sort of commotion outside that woke her from one of the best dreams she ever had. At first, she thought that maybe some sort of wild animal had invaded their camp, but she soon realized it was more serious when she heard angry voices.

"Just let us be on our way, Shemlen." she heard a male voice demand.

"Not until you tell me why you were sneaking around our camp." Alistair countered.

"We were not sneaking around your camp, human." the stranger replied. "We were simply passing by."

"Bullshit!" exclaimed the prince.

Just as Emily was emerging from her tent, she heard a familiar female voice. "There is no need to be so cranky. We were just passing by and saw your tents and wondered who you were."

"Merrill?" Emily asked in a surprised voice.

The elven mage's eyes widened as she ran toward her old friend and wrapped her arms around Emily. "Hawke? Is that really you?"

"What in the Maker's name are you doing all the way out here Merrill? I thought you were supposed to be rallying the Dalish for a gathering or something."

"Well, I was." answered the elf. "But there were a few clans in the northern Dales that I had to talk to. We were just on our way back to the Brecilian Forest." She pointed her thumb to the four male Dalish that were accompanying her. "Well, they were anyhow. I was actually trying to find Isabela. According to Asha' Belannar, she was supposed to be in this area somewhere."

"Why were you looking for Isabela?" Emily asked with puzzlement.

"Because she is supposed to take me to the Free Marches so I can talk to the Dalish there, of course."

"Does she know that?"

Merrill rolled her eyes in thought for a few moments before shaking her head. "Probably not. I didn't find out myself until a few days ago."

Emily chuckled. "I've missed you Merrill."

"I've missed you too Hawke." the elf stated distractedly. "I don't suppose you have seen Isabela have you?"

"Isabela, Fenris and another companion of ours went ahead to Jader while the three of us attended to some business in the mountains."

"So that means I will be traveling with you." the smaller woman stated as if it were a foregone conclusion. She turned to the men whom she had been traveling with and smiled. "Thank you all for going with me. You can go back to your clans now. Just don't forget to where you're supposed to be for the gathering."

The other elves looked slightly confused by Merrill's sudden dismissal of their company, but it didn't seem to come as a complete surprise. It was just how the Dalish woman was, and apparently they had traveled with her long enough to realize that. With a quick goodbye in Dalish, the men walked into the nearby wood and disappeared from sight.

Once they were gone, the elven mage turned back to Emily. Her lids narrowed and her lips pursed as her eyes moved from her friend to Alistair and back again. "He's quite handsome, Hawke." she observed. "But then, so were the rest of your boyfriends. You seem to get very lucky in the looks department. He's quite tall too, but not as tall as Anders. Anders was really, really tall. I'm glad you found someone though, because I know how sad you were when Anders died." She stopped suddenly and covered her mouth. "I'm talking about Anders too much aren't I? I hope I didn't upset you. Does he even know about Anders…although I can't imagine you wouldn't tell him."

Emily stole a glance at Alistair, and had to stifle a laugh over the expression he wore. He looked surprised, worried and confused all at the same time. "Merrill," she interrupted the Dalish woman's rambling. "I would like for you to meet Alistair Theirin."

The elf searched the ground with her deep green eyes for a few moments. "Theirin?" she mumbled under her breath. "Theirin…Theirin." Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "You mean as in Maric Theirin…as in King of Ferelden Theirin?"

Alistair bowed low. "At your service dear lady."

"Oh Hawke," Merrill grinned "You actually found him. You found the lost King of Ferelden." Emily didn't think it was possible for the Dalish girl's eyes to go any wider, but they did. "And you're _dating_ him. This is all just too exciting. My friend is dating the King of Ferelden. But that is quite a step up from a poor apostate living in the sewers isn't it?" She threw her arms around her human friend once again. "I am so happy for you." Then she threw her arms around Alistair and cried, "Welcome to the family your majesty." before suddenly backing away. "Oh dear. I hope it is okay to hug a king without asking for permission. That isn't an executable offense or anything is it? Do you have to ask for permission Hawke?"

As the elf backed away and continued babbling worriedly, Emily whispered in Alistair's ear. "She tends to ramble when she gets nervous or excited. She isn't usually this bad. She'll be somewhat normal when she calms down a bit."

The prince shook his head with a chuckle. "The rest of this trip should be quite interesting with her around."

Emily bit her bottom lip. "By the way, just so you don't freak out about it later…Merrill is a blood mage."

"W…What?" Alistair stammered, taking a step back. "A blood mage?"

"You are talking about me?" Merrill interjected. "Yes, I use blood magic occasionally. But not so much anymore." Her face became forlorn with guilt. "Not since…well you know Hawke."

"Not since you murdered your own Keeper?" Anion spat bitterly. He had been leaning against a nearby tree, listening to their conversation in silence. He sneered at Merrill angrily. Emily was a bit taken aback because she had never seen the healer like that before. With all of his shy smiles and warmth, the young man never reminded her more of Anders as he did right then.

Merrill seemed confused and Emily wasn't sure if it was from his resemblance to Anders or from his knowledge of what happened to Marethari. "I didn't murder her." Merrill proclaimed.

"Then why were you seen covered in blood coming from the cave where her body was found?" he pressed.

"Anion," Emily began softly.

"No, Hawke!" he hissed furiously. "She was her Keeper's first and she not only turned her back on her people but she abused her gift and then killed her teacher."

The human mage grabbed the young healer by the shoulders and shook him gently to gain his attention and to get him to calm down. Rage flashed in his eyes, changing their color from sky-blue to grey. He tried to pull away but Emily, refused to let him go, pulling him into her arms and holding him close. "Dar atisha, da'len." she spoke softly as she gently stroked his hair. "Calm down, sweetie. Give me just a moment to explain…please?"

She felt his head bob against her shoulder before he stood straight, his steel grey eyes filled with angry tears. "I do not understand, Hawke. How can you explain this?"

"Because I was there." admitted the older mage. "I took Merrill from her clan because they had ostracized her."

"No, Hawke," Merrill interrupted with a sad frown. "It is my story…let me explain it." She turned to Anion. "You are at least part Dalish then?"

He swallowed hard and wiped his knuckles across his eyes. "Yes and no. I was born in the alienage in Denerim and lived there until I was eleven. When the templars were told of my gift, my mother took me from the city and we fled to the Free Marches. We found a Dalish tribe that accepted us. My mother died a few months later and I was raised and taught by the clan's Keeper until I met Hawke."

The elven woman studied the healer's face for several moments. "Your father was human?" Anion nodded. "Was his name Anders?" she inquired. Again the young healer nodded and Merrill smiled wistfully. "He was a good man, though he treated me like I was his child at times. You look like him."

"I've heard that." the young man whispered dolefully. "So what really happened to your Keeper?"

Merrill's brow creased and she pressed her lips together for a few moments. "It all started here in Ferelden. Two childhood friends of mine, Tamlen and Theron were scouting outside of the camp one day when they came across three humans running through the forest. Before the two hunters killed the men, the strangers told them of a nearby cave that was full of treasures, but also monsters.

Tamlen was always the adventurous type and he was always trying to find a way to make a name for himself within the clan, so he talked Theron into searching the cave to see if they could find anything useful. It turned out that it wasn't a cave at all, but ancient elven ruins.

When the two of them hadn't made it back by dusk, the Keeper sent out a search party to find them. They discovered Theron lying unconscious outside of the doorway leading into the ruins, but Tamlen was nowhere to be found. When Theron finally regained consciousness, he told us that Tamlen had disappeared inside a strange mirror.

The Keeper ordered Theron to take me to find this mirror and Tamlen. I had studied our people's history enough to know that what the two hunters found was actually an Eluvian."

Anion's eyes grew wide. "An Eluvian? I thought they had all been destroyed. You actually found one intact?"

"I didn't." answered Merrill. "When Theron and I found the Eluvian again, it was in pieces. I was of course interested in studying such an integral piece of Dalish history, but more than anything, I wanted to find Tamlen. We left the mirror in the ruins and reported back to the Keeper. While we were gone, she had already ordered the others to begin packing up so we could leave and she told us to forget the mirror…that Tamlen was lost.

I decided that I wasn't going to accept that. So after I quickly got my own things together, I snuck back to the ruins. Theron and one of the other hunters, Fenarel, had followed me without my knowledge. Since they were there anyway, I talked them into helping me. I wrapped the frame in a blanket and had them carry it back to camp, while I used magic to gather all of the broken pieces into a leather sack. We hid the pieces in an aravel while no one was looking and kept what we had done to ourselves, at least for a while.

I do not know why the Keeper decided to go to the Free Marches, she never told me or anyone as far as I know, but we traveled for weeks until we reached Greenvale, and from there we went to Sundermount. While we were on the ship, one of the other hunters had to put the knife to Theron because of the darkspawn taint he had been infected with when he and Tamlen found the Eluvian."

"So the Eluvian was tainted?" inquired the healer with a scowl. "Did you know that when you took it?"

"I was not absolutely sure of it, but I had an idea that it was after the story Theron told us."

"And you took it anyway?"

"The Eluvian never carried that curse when they were used by our ancestors. That was something that came later….I thought I could fix it…purify it."

"I take it that your Keeper found the mirror, then." deduced the younger elf.

"Only after I told her about it." Merrill replied. "She caught me using blood magic while trying to cleanse the shards of the taint."

"What made you think that would work?"

"Because the demon told me it would," Merrill explained sadly, "and before you say anything, after what happened to the Keeper, I realized too late that I made a mistake in trusting him. I always thought that there was no real difference between the spirits, that there were neither good nor evil." She sighed. "I thought I had it all figured out…even your father tried to warn me, but I didn't listen to him or anyone else. I was foolish and it cost the lives of some of the very people I was trying to save."

"So how did Keeper Marethari die, Merrill?" Anion queried, his tone was becoming impatient.

"I told her of my dealings with the demon" the elven woman continued "and we argued about it. That was when I decided to leave the clan. I had the mirror moved to my home in the alienage and continued working on it. There was one piece that I just couldn't repair, so Hawke helped me get the Arulin'Holm from the Keeper. That didn't work either, so I decided to go talk to the spirit again. I wasn't sure what would happen and after witnessing other abominations in Kirkwall, I asked Hawke to go with me so she could kill me if something went wrong.

When we got to the cave where the spirit had been trapped, we found it missing. The Keeper came and told me that she had taken the demon into her own body in order to protect me. The demon took over and we had to kill it…and the Keeper in the process."

"And what of the mirror?" Anion asked through constricted lids.

"As soon as we returned to the city, I went home and smashed it to bits. I gathered the shards and melted the frame and then I threw it all in the dustbin."

The young healer was quiet for several minutes, as if contemplating the other elf's words and trying to gauge whether she was worthy of forgiveness. Finally he nodded. "Ma serannas, Lethallan...for telling me the truth. A First's job is to learn of the old ways, and that is what you were trying to do. Although I do not agree with how you handled the situation of the Eluvian, Marethari chose her own path. What she did…it may have been to protect you from yourself, but you are not responsible for her death."

"Ma serannas," Merrill said quietly "for understanding."

After several tense moments, Emily finally interrupted the hush that had fallen over the camp. "So does this mean that we're all friends now?"

Anion nodded. "Of course."

Merrill grinned. "Wonderful…by the way…what was your name again?"

"Anion." the younger elf replied.

"That sounds a _little_ like Anders" the Dalish girl mused. "They both start with the same letters anyhow. I wonder if that was done on purpose."

Emily could tell that Merrill was about to start another one of her rambling sessions, so she decided to stop her friend before she got going again. "Merrill, I was just about to have a bit of breakfast. Would you care to join me?"

"Oh, that would be lovely Hawke" the elf said with a smile which promptly turned to a frown. "You didn't cook it did you?"

The human mage rolled her eyes. "No."

"Then I would love to." Merrill reiterated. "It feels like ages since I've had anything to eat. I knew that I was supposed to be here to find Isabela and I was in a hurry, so I completely forgot about breakfast. I miss her terribly…"

As the elf began to babble again, Emily's mind drifted while she ate her morning meal. She stole a glance at Alistair, who flashed her a sexy, knowing smirk. The brunette was confused by his behavior. After their conversation the previous evening, she knew that she and the prince agreed that it was over once and for all, but it certainly didn't feel that way. She found that she was feeling even closer to him than before.

"Hawke?" she heard Merrill say from her left, bringing her out of her introspection.

Emily waggled her head a bit before addressing the elf. "I'm sorry Merrill…what did you say?"

The Dalish girl giggled. "He really is quite handsome. Is he as good as Anders was…in bed I mean? I used to hear the two of you when we would make camp. Isabela said that you wouldn't make noises like that unless you were _really_ enjoying it and that she might have to steal him away from you for a night."

The other mage exclaimed as she covered her reddened face with her hand. "Merrill!" Suddenly, something the elf said dawned on her. "Wait a minute." Emily's voice lowered as she leaned toward her friend. "You and Isabela used to listen to Anders and I having sex?"

"Oh yes." Merrill bobbed with widened eyes. "In fact, the first time Isabela and I ever made love was because we were listening to you."

"Holy Maker." Emily mumbled in disbelief.

"You used to say that a lot." the elven mage remarked.

"Can we change the subject please?" the human pleaded.

"But you didn't answer the question. Is the king better than Anders?"

Emily realized that Merrill wasn't going to let it go. "Yes." she hissed. "Okay?...Yes, Alistair is a better lover."

"Is that so?" she heard Alistair ask from behind her and she closed her eyes.

_Sweet Andraste, _she thought. _Why did he have to hear that?_

"Now," he proclaimed "If you two ladies are finished gossiping, we should really pack up and get back on the road."

Emily thanked the Maker that the prince didn't say anything more. She wondered if he would bring it up later in private. She and Merrill hurriedly finished their food and then the elven woman helped them break camp.

Once they were back on the trail, Merrill ran ahead to walk next to Anion. Emily was happy to see that they were chatting pleasantly with each other. Well, Merrill was chatting, but Anion actually seemed interested in whatever it was the Dalish girl was saying. She then heard Alistair's footsteps approaching and braced herself for the inevitable teasing she was about to have to endure.

He fell in step next to her. "Do you mind if I keep you company?"

She shook her head. "Not at all."

They walked in silence for a long while, until Alistair bumped her shoulder. "So would you say just better…or the best?"

She gave him a tight-lipped smile and batted her lashes. "I would say…one more word about it and you might not ever be able to use it again."

He snickered and held up his hands in surrender. "No need to get violent. I was just curious."

That small amount of banter was all it took for the two of them to relax and they began talking normally, as if nothing ever happened the night before. Since they got such a late start that morning, they ate their afternoon meal as they traveled and they continued until well after dark.

When they finally made camp for the night, Emily realized that the place was very familiar. She addressed her companions. "Do you know where we are?"

"I haven't the foggiest." Merrill piped up. "I've never been here before."

Anion nodded. "Yes, we are at the south end of the forest that lies outside of Jader."

Alistair surveyed the area around them. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." affirmed the healer. He pointed to a nearby rock formation. "I remember seeing that when we were headed to Lothering. I thought it odd and out of place among the rest of the landscape."

"So that means that we're what?...A couple of hours from Jader at most?" questioned the prince. "So why don't we just keep going? I know I wouldn't mind sleeping in a real bed for the night."

Where Alistair was eager to keep moving, Emily on the other hand was getting a very bad vibe. Something was wrong, very wrong. The mage was just about to voice her concerns, when a group of soldiers closed in around them. All of them wore brown and black armor with the image of a large eye surrounded by a white sun emblazoned on their chests.

"It was only a matter of time." One of the men declared with a cold, calculating grin. "Her Holiness will be most pleased when I send word that the Hawke is in our custody."


	42. Chapter 42

"Yes," Emily drawled with a smirk "maybe this will give you a chance to get your tongue off of Her Holiness's boots and move it up to her asshole."

Merrill broke out into a fit of giggles and Alistair just stared wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the human mage. Anion, on the other hand, surprised everyone when he spoke. "Better yet, maybe she will be so excited by the prospect of throwing more apostates into prison that she'll actually allow you to stick your entire head in there."

Emily arched a brow at the young healer and wondered if he had suddenly been possessed by the spirit of his father. The man in charge of the group of Seekers scowled at the young man. "Prison would be too good for the likes of you. Did you really think you would get away with destroying a Chantry and murdering innocent people, _Anders_?" Anion shook his head with disbelief and the other man smiled. "Yes, we know who you are."

"What you know couldn't even fill a thimble." the human mage snarked.

The Seeker harrumphed. "Is that so?" he snarled. He pointed the tip of his longsword at Anion. "That is the apostate Anders who was once a Grey Warden, but ran from the order so he could incite a mage revolution in the Free Marches." His sword moved to Merrill. "_That _is the Dalish apostate Merrill, who just happens to be a known blood mage." Finally he turned back to Emily. "And you, you are Emily Hawke, the Ferelden apostate turned Champion then turned Renegade…the leader and mastermind behind the rebellion."

"You forgot about me. Who am I?" Alistair asked sardonically. "I _must _be the dwarf Varric…or maybe I'm the escaped slave, Fenris…or better yet, I'm the Prince of Starkhaven…no, no that's not right…I got it! I'm the pirate captain, Isabela." He crossed his arms. "Or maybe _you're _just an idiot."

The Seeker marched toward Alistair angrily and placed the edge of his blade against the prince's neck. "Don't you know who I am?"

Without missing a beat Alistair replied, "I thought we just established that."

"I should slit your throat right now," hissed the uniformed man "but I think I will leave your fate to the high inquisitor."

"Ooh" Alistair said with narrowed eyes "scary."

The Seeker turned his back on his captors and then circled to face them, his expression completely calm and unreadable. "You are all under arrest for heresy and for the murder of Grand Cleric Elthina."

Emily looked at her friends in turn, giving them silent orders to attack on her word. "You really don't think we'll give up that easily, do you?" she asked with a wry smile.

Before the soldier could answer, Anion threw out a protection spell on his companions followed by a gut check with his staff to the soldier that was approaching him from behind. Meanwhile, another soldier grabbed Merrill around her shoulders, leaving the elf's hands loose enough to reach the small dagger sheathed at her waist. The Dalish girl retrieved the knife and quickly slit her wrists open. Almost immediately, the man at her back along with two other soldiers near her began shaking violently. Within seconds, they had all fallen to the ground, dead, from their blood being boiled within their veins.

Alistair, in one fluid motion, unsheathed his sword and pivoted on his heel, taking the heads of two Seekers who were closing in on him. He quickly recovered the shield at his back and bashed it into the jaw of another man who was trying to take him. Emily had pulled her staff and was using it to fend off more of the Divine's agents. The first Seeker received the blunt end of the weapon beneath her chin, shattering her jaw; the second the sharp end in the middle of his chest, ripping into his ribcage and the third an upswing into his groin causing him to drop to his knees and writhe on the ground in pain. Once the Seekers in her immediate vicinity were incapacitated, Emily's hands rose into the air and began to rain fire down upon her enemies.

When the spell dissipated, the only Seeker left standing was their leader who smiled wickedly and whistled loudly into the night. Within seconds, dozens more Seekers and Templars descended upon them from all around. They seemed to come out of nowhere and were approaching fast.

"So what do we do now?" asked Alistair, panting with exertion.

Emily gauged the situation for a moment and realized that she didn't like their odds at all. Alistair would have been alright with his sword, but she wasn't sure that the mages' mana could hold out among all of the enemies they were now facing. Not to mention that Merrill's use of blood magic to power her spells had left her looking pale and weakened.

The human mage looked at each of her companions in turn and arched her brows. "Run."

As they took off in different directions, Merrill was the first one to be caught when she stumbled over a large stone. A templar, snatched her up and held onto her crimson wrists while she began kicking and screaming against him. Anion was the next to be caught when a Seeker bum-rushed him from his side and knocked the healer down. Alistair's legs became entangled in a bola which had been thrown at him and he hit the ground, causing his weapons to be discharged from his grip.

Emily turned to go back and help her friends, when she felt a big arm wrap around her waist and a sword at her neck. "It's over, Hawke." the leader growled into her ear. Seeing that her companions were caught and helpless, the mage did not struggle, but dropped her staff and quietly resigned herself to her fate.

The hush that had fallen over the battlefield was fractured by a long swoosh followed by a loud thump as the tip of an arrow protruded from the forehead of the man holding onto Merrill. His grip released and he crumpled to the ground. Emily smiled. _Nadia._

Suddenly, there was a bright silver glow at her back. The sword at her neck had dropped and the arm gripping her waist fell away as she heard the sickened gurgling of the man who had captured her.

"I thought I told you to stay _out_ of trouble, Hawke." she heard a deep voice say as her captor hit the ground.

"Fenris!" she cried as she circled in time to see the glow of her old friend's lyrium lines fade. "But how did you…?"

"No time for that now." he interjected. "We have to get out of here. There are more where these came from inside the village."

Emily retrieved her staff from the ground and began throwing ice spells at the soldier who was standing over Alistair. Even though his legs were still wrapped in the weighted rope, he quickly grabbed his nearby shield, rose to his knees and used the entire weight of his body to shatter the man encased in ice above him.

The mage turned to help Anion next, but realized she was too late when she saw the young healer casting flame spells at some of the other soldiers, his captor lying face down with the curved white handle of one of Isabela's throwing knives sticking out of his back.

The battle began anew, but it seemed that the number of enemy was endless. Even though there were three more of them, Emily didn't see where they stood a chance. There were just too many soldiers left to kill.

Just as she was beginning to give up hope of ever escaping, she felt another protection spell wash over her, much stronger than any that Anion had ever used before. Then, dark clouds began to roll in, completely blocking out the lights of the moon and the stars and a great wind began to blow. It was immediately followed by streaks of bright blue lightening descending down upon them from the now blackened sky.

Emily knew by its sudden appearance that it was no mere storm, but magical in nature. Although, other than Flemeth's squall they had been hit by when they were on the ship, the mage could not recall ever seeing one as powerful. The bolts began hitting the Seekers and Templars, burning them to a crisp inside their armor and dropping them to the cold ground.

The brunette looked to the odd rock formation that Anion had spoken of earlier and standing atop it was a tall man who was dressed in black from the hood of his heavy cloak to the toes of his boots. He was surrounded by blue flames as he held his hands to the heavens causing the storm to gather even more strength. Her brow furrowed at the sight of the mage and she wondered who he could possibly be.

She felt a hand tugging at her arm, as she was spellbound by the stranger who had come to their aid. "Come on Hawke," she heard Isabela scream over the din "we have to go."

"But what about him?" Emily asked pointing to the man. "He saved us. We can't just leave him here."

Isabela began dragging the mage behind her. "He will join us later, on the ship, but right now we've got to get the hell out of here."

"But who is he?" the mage asked still struggling against the pirate.

"An old friend." she yelled with exasperation. "Now come on or we'll all be done for."

Emily remembered Fenris's warning about there being more soldiers in Jader and decided it was probably time to heed Isabela's words. As she began to run into the tree line, she took one more quick glance over her shoulder at the man who had just rescued them all. She hoped that he would be able to escape as well. Once she began running in earnest and at full speed, she wondered why Isabela never mentioned she had such a powerful mage as a friend. Perhaps he was an Imperial and that's why the captain never said anything.

Once they reached the northern edge of the forest, Isabela led them around the village so they wouldn't be seen by the Seekers and Templars who were patrolling the town. They managed to quickly sneak aboard the ship when a short ugly little man distracted the soldiers by telling them that he thought he saw the criminals in an alley to the east.

When they boarded the ship, the crew, which had apparently been hiding below decks began untying ropes and hoisting sails. Just as they were shoving off away from the docks, the man in black appeared around the corner, stopping long enough to throw a flame spell at a large group of Templars that were closing in on him. He raced toward the departing ship and jumped from the end of the dock, using a force spell to propel him farther. His hands just caught the railing and Fenris and Alistair reached down to help pull him over and onto the deck of the ship.

The stranger lay there panting heavily, his face still covered by his hood when Emily approached and stood over him. He pulled himself up to his knees and then to his feet. Once he was standing at his full height, Emily peered up at him with curious eyes.

"Thank you for helping us." she said. "But who are you?"

The tall man reached up with his gloved hand and pulled back his hood revealing twinkling amber eyes and an all too familiar smirk.

"_You _are a very hard woman to track down." he told her as he placed his hands tenderly on her cheeks. "I've missed you, love."


	43. Chapter 43

Emily couldn't believe her eyes. She moved her right hand up to cover his left. "Anders?" she breathed. "How? I…I watched you fall. I saw you die."

He rubbed her cheek with his thumb, the smirk never fading. The look in his amber eyes was unmistakable. His heart still belonged to her. "Justice brought me back."

Without another word, Emily wrapped her wrists around his neck and pulled him down for a hug. Anders immediately gathered her into his arms and lifted her up. As she wrapped her legs around his waist, he brought her lips to his and kissed her like a drowning man who had gone without air for far too long and her kiss was the only thing that could keep him alive and breathing.

Emily's mind was in a state of confusion. There he was, the man she had dedicated her life to…the man who had been her entire world for over four years. Even after he walked away from her, even after she thought him dead, her heart still belonged to him completely, until….

Anders loosened his grip enough for her to slide down his body until her feet touched the wooden planks below. He gazed lovingly into her emerald-green orbs for a few more minutes before turning his attention to the people whom had traveled back to Jader with her.

He gave Merrill a slight nod of his head. "Merrill, it's nice to see you again. How are you?"

The Dalish girl glanced at Emily and then Alistair. The human mage just knew that her friend was going to go off on a blabbering tangent which would lead to all sorts of trouble. Instead, Merrill surprised Emily when her lips curled into a tight, uncomfortable smile. "Oh about the same. I imagine being dead was a strange experience for you."

_Thank the Maker, _Emily thought. At least Merrill had some common sense when it was really important. Anders cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow as he stared curiously at the elf for a long moment.

"Yes, it was a bit odd." he confirmed. He was obviously confused by the Dalish woman's behavior, since it was not like Merrill at all to remain so quiet in that type of situation. His eyes then turned to Alistair.

"And you are?" Anders asked offering his hand to the prince.

"Alistair Theirin" the other man replied, reluctantly clasping the mage's wrist.

"You were a Warden once weren't you?" the tall man questioned. "You traveled with Commander Erin Amell during the Blight."

The prince grimaced and gave a small nod. "Yeah, that was me."

Anders smiled sympathetically. "Oghren talked about you a lot. For what it's worth…I'm sorry."

Alistair waved away the other man's concerns. "It was years ago…water under the bridge."

The blonde mage rotated to speak to Emily again, when he caught a glimpse of Anion and took a quick step back, a bewildered expression on his face.

"What the bloody hell?" he cried. He turned to his love and she saw blue flash across his amber eyes for a split second. "What the bloody hell, Em? Who is that and why the hell does he have my staff?"

"Calm down Anders." she commanded gently. "Give me a moment to explain." The older mage nodded but continued to stare at the younger man warily. "Do you remember the story you told me about Raina, the elf you met in Denerim?"

Anders' brow creased. "Yes, I remember…I thought I was in love with her and we talked about running away together…until the Templars caught me."

"Well," Emily explained "this is Raina's son, Anion." When the tall mage still didn't seem to understand what she was trying to say, the brunette added. "Anion is twenty."

"Okay?" Anders queried. "That still doesn't explain…" Suddenly, realization crossed the man's face. "Are you trying to tell me that he's...my…?"

Emily nodded. "Yes, Anders. Anion is your son."

As Anders contemplated his lover's words, the younger man just stood there with a worried expression, waiting to find out the answer to the question that he had wrestled with for most of his life. Would his father accept or reject him? Just when Emily began to wonder if she had been wrong about her mate's reaction, a wide grin broke out over Anders' face.

"I have a son." He beamed. "I'm a father…This day just gets better and better. " He then approached Anion and threw his arms around the young healer's shoulders. When he finally took a step back, Anders' eyes were glistening, but the smile never left his face. He studied his son's features for a long moment. "You look…nothing like your mother." he laughed. His countenance then grew serious. "Except for the color of your eyes. Raina had the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen. It was the first thing I noticed about her."

"I have been told that." Anion remarked.

Anders glanced at Emily for a moment before speaking to his son again. "Maybe tomorrow we can spend a little time catching up…but for tonight, if you don't mind, there is someone I need to give my full attention to."

The young man smiled. "Of course. I understand…but what should I call you?"

Anders shrugged. "Whatever you like I suppose. You may call me father if you wish, or Anders if you're more comfortable with that."

"Then…I understand…father."

The older man grinned and clapped a hand to his son's shoulder before turning to Isabela. "You do remember our deal, Isabela?"

"Oh come on, Anders." the pirate whined. "That's before I knew that Merrill was going to be with them."

Anders shook his head. "I don't care. You and Merrill will just have to find somewhere else to have your private time."

A coy smile played on the Dalish girl's lips as she took her lover by the hand. "It's okay, emma lath. I think it might be rather exciting…and naughty."

Isabela smirked. "You know, you're right Merrill. We could see how many places we can find to have sex on the ship without getting caught."

The elven woman giggled. "Yes, we could make a game of it."

The captain arched both eyebrows. "Now _that _is my kind of game."

Anders chuckled at the two women for a moment and then returned his attention to Emily. He took her hand and kissed the back of it gently before gesturing toward the door of the captain's quarters. "Shall we, love?"

Emily studied her feet for a few minutes not sure of what to do. She still loved Anders very deeply, but she also loved Alistair. How could she just toss her feelings for the prince aside and fall back into Anders' arms…and his bed? On the other hand, she needed to find a way to move on from what she and Alistair had. They could never be together and they already established that their relationship was over…so why shouldn't she be with Anders? Anders loved her and he was good to her…most of the time. He had left her, but they had reconciled just before the Battle of Kirkwall. They had decided to marry as soon as the battle was over and they found somewhere safe away from the city. Up until she met Alistair, Emily had always thought of Anders as the love of her life. She looked up and gazed into his warm amber eyes. He flashed her a crooked smile and she breathed in deeply. She still loved him and she had missed him so much. His hand squeezed hers and it was all she needed to convince her that she rally did want to spend the night with him. Alistair could never be part of her life in the way she had hoped. It was time to move on, no matter how badly she wanted it to be otherwise.

She reached up and brushed a blonde tendril away from his face before kissing him on the cheek. "I can hardly wait" she whispered in his ear.

* * *

As Alistair watched Anders take Emily by the hand and lead her to Isabela's cabin, his heart sank. The love of his life was walking away with another man, and there was nothing he could do or say to stop it. She didn't even give him a second glance and only hesitated for a moment when Anders asked her to share a bed with him for the night.

The prince felt tears welling up in his eyes. What the hell did he think was going to happen anyway? He had made it abundantly clear that he and Emily didn't have a prayer of being together. Did he expect her to just wait around in case he changed his mind? Did he want her to spend the rest of her life pining over a man she could never have? Was she going to choose to be alone because she couldn't have him? The truth of the matter was, she was Anders' love first. When they met, she was mourning his loss and he knew the way Emily still felt about the mage by what he had seen in the Wilder spirit house.

He tried to reason with himself. He loved her with all of his heart and he wanted her to be happy. Now that Anders was back, he could make her happy in a way Alistair never could. But no matter how much he tried to tell himself those things, it did not help. His heart was breaking into a thousand pieces. A mental image of Emily and Anders being together assaulted his brain and he almost vomited. He felt a hand on his shoulder and circled to see Fenris with an empathetic expression painted on his face.

"I…I do not know what to say Alistair." he sighed. "Except for…I am sorry. I know exactly how this feels for you."

"It's okay Fenris." the prince nodded. "We agreed after you left that it wouldn't work between us. She is free to do as she wishes."

The elf shook his head. "That may be so, but I know that does not make it any easier."

"No, it doesn't."

Fenris's brows furrowed. "May I ask why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you come to that decision?"

Alistair's head dropped. "Because I am going to be king, and a king cannot marry a mage."

The elf pursed his lips. After a long moment of silence he said, "Well, I think that I will turn in for the night. You should probably try to get some rest as well."

"Yeah," the prince agreed. As the other man began to walk away, Alistair added. "Thanks Fenris."

The silver-haired warrior stopped and nodded wordlessly before continuing his trek toward Nadia who was standing next to the bowsprit.

Alistair took one more look at the door leading to the captain's quarters. His shoulders slumped. Part of him had hoped that he could have found a way for he and Emily to be together. Now that hope was gone…all of his hope was gone. Suddenly he realized that he no longer cared about the upcoming battle or being king or even Ferelden. The woman he loved was gone along with every reason he had for living.

He began mindlessly walking toward the hatch that led below decks and to the galley. There was only one thing that would make him feel better…make him feel nothing. He just hoped that Isabela had the foresight to restock the wine rack.

* * *

After the door was shut behind them, Anders removed his cloak and gloves and turned to Emily taking her into his arms. For the past nine months, he had dreamed of this moment, feeling her in his arms again. In his mind, he had imagined that she would be overcome with joy at finding out that he was not dead and their life together would simply continue as it had before everything went sour. He assumed that after they left Jader and made port again, they would get married just as they planned before the battle in Kirkwall. Yet, Emily seemed distracted as if she were wrestling with some hidden conflict. He had never seen her like that. No matter how many times they fought, no matter how many times he pushed her away in the past, she had always welcomed him back with open arms. This time, however, she seemed reluctant.

He softly kissed her forehead. "What's wrong, love?"

She peered up at him, shaking her head as if she were shaking away her thoughts. "Nothing, sweetheart." she smiled. "I guess I'm still in shock.

Anders reached up and pulled the ribbon from her hair, letting her dark-brown locks fall to her shoulders. He ran his fingers through her loose tresses. "I can't tell you how much I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Anders." she told him as a tear trickled down her cheek.

The blonde mage had never seen her shed a tear before, not even when her mother was killed. "Don't cry, my love. I am here now and I will never leave your side again."

He wiped away the droplet with his thumb and bent his head down, covering her mouth with a tender kiss. With her odd behavior, he was a little worried about how she would react, but his fears were laid to rest when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his ponytail loose. She melted into his arms just the way she always had when he kissed her like that.

Without a word, Anders picked Emily up and carried her to the bed, laying her gently down upon it. As she lay there looking up at him with glistening emerald eyes, he thought that she was even more beautiful than he remembered. He quickly removed his pauldrons, jacket, shirt and boots before joining her on the bed. She ran her fingers down his bare chest and gazed into his eyes with that little coquettish grin that always drove him mad with desire.

His lips found hers again and he slowly began unlacing her corset. It had been more than a year since they had been together and part of him wanted to just take her, but his heart prevented him from rushing through it. He wanted to make love to her. He wanted to show her how much he had missed her, how sorry he was for treating her the way he had, but most of all he wanted to show her how very much he loved her.

Even though Justice had brought him back, the voice had been relatively silent since then. He found that he could call upon the spirit's power in battle whenever he needed it, but his other half had become mostly dormant otherwise. Since Justice no longer seemed determined to take over his body and mind, Anders felt that being with Emily was finally possible in a way he had never believed could be in the past. For his remaining years, they could actually live a semi-normal life together…the kind of life her father had with her mother.

"I love you, Emily" he whispered as he kissed down the right side of her neck.

"I love you too, Anders." she answered as she entangled her fingers in his hair.

Once her bodice was loose, he peeled it back and then lifted her shoulders from the bed. He pulled her blouse over her head and tossed it along with her corset to the side and onto the floor. When he went to cover her shoulder with his mouth, he noticed a faint bruise. His mind started to race as he wondered where she could have gotten such a mark. The thought was quickly driven away when she pulled his face up to hers and her tongue began tracing his lips.

Anders felt her legs wrap around his hips as he began moving against her. He retreated from Emily long enough to remove the remainder of their clothes and then lowered himself over her once again. He rested his upper body on his forearms as he brushed her hair back with his fingertips.

"You are without a doubt the most beautiful woman in the world. Can you ever forgive me for leaving you the way I did, love?"

"Anders," she replied "I forgave you for that a long time ago."

"I am the luckiest man in the world" he smiled before closing the distance between them and kissing her again. Just as his lips made contact with hers, he entered her and sparks of electricity began to form between every part of their bodies that made contact with each other. It took all of his fortitude not to speed his movements, but he somehow managed to keep them slow and deliberate as his rhythmic thrusts caused her hips to move forward to press against him. Even though it was difficult since he hadn't been with her in over a year, Anders' age and experience allowed him to stop his release as Emily found hers again and again. The only thing he cared about right then was being with her and bringing her pleasure. No words were spoken between them as he rocked her body gently in his arms.

Then, just before she reached her climax for the fifth time, Emily ran her fingers through his loose blonde hair, looked deeply into his amber eyes and whispered the words, "I love you" with a desperation he had never seen from her before. As much as he tried to hold it back, Anders' release came almost instantaneously. His skin tingled from the electric shocks that they were both producing while they reached the height of ecstasy at the same time, staring into each other's eyes. As often as they had made love in the past and as long as they had been together, sex with Emily had never felt like that before. Not even their first time was as earth-shaking and mind blowing as what he had just experienced.

"Maker, Em." Anders panted once it was over. "If you keep making love to me like that, I might not ever let you get out of this bed again."

She giggled. "I have a feeling Isabela would have to argue with you about that."

He tucked her hair behind her ears. "You're probably right, but I don't care. I don't ever want to leave your arms again…I'm back Emily…for good this time."

The brunette pursed her lips and creased her brows together. "Are you sure, Anders? What about Justice? And the mages?"

He covered her lips with the tip of his index finger and shook his head. "None of that matters anymore. The only thing that is important to me is you...the way it should have been all along." He suddenly remembered something he had meant to do before they made love. "One second okay?" he requested before giving her a quick peck on the lips and dangling his upper torso over the side of the bed.

Anders reached into the pocket of his trousers and retrieved what he was looking for before returning to his place at her right side. He then took her left hand into his and kissed it softly. He gazed lovingly into her eyes as he slipped the emerald ring she had once given back to him on her finger. "Marry me, Em." he whispered. "I don't want to spend another minute of my life without you."

She swallowed and bit her lower lip. "Anders…" she began. "I have a job to do. This war…I have to see this through."

He stroked her hair. "Then we'll see it through together. I know how important this is and I am not asking you to give up on anything. I just want to know that when this is all over, we can settle down and have a real life…together. Maybe we can even try to have a family again."

"Are you sure that's what you really want?"

He smiled. "I have never wanted anything more in my life."

"Okay." Emily finally nodded. "Yes, I will marry you."

Anders couldn't contain his happiness as a grin spread across his face. "Then let's do it. As soon as the ship docks. Let's find a priestess and get married."

He thought he noticed just a hint of sadness and regret in her eyes before she lowered her head and snuggled up to his chest. "That sounds perfect." she sighed.


	44. Chapter 44

When Emily awoke the next morning, she thought the previous evening had been nothing more than a dream until she realized that she was lying in Anders' arms. Instinctively, she cuddled up closer to him and he squeezed her tighter. She felt his soft lips on her crown.

"Good morning, love." he whispered. "How are you feeling?"

She nuzzled her cheek against his chest. She honestly didn't know the answer to his question. Her emotions were in such a disarray that she wasn't sure which one was dominant. She felt happy that Anders wasn't dead and that he was back in her life. At the same time, she felt guilty about being with him because a huge part of her heart was crying out for Alistair. But then another part of her heart was elated that she was in Anders' arms and she never again had to wake without him next to her. It was almost as if a piece of her that had been missing had been returned to its rightful place and she was whole once more. But the side of her that loved Alistair told her that she would never be complete without _him._

"Sweetheart?" she heard her lover ask. "Are you still awake?"

"I'm sorry, love. I must have dozed off again" she lied.

Anders began to lightly stroke her hair. "It's no wonder, the way you were tossing and turning last night."

Emily peered up at him with a worried frown. "I hope I didn't keep you awake all night."

He shook his head. "No, you settled down after I began holding you tighter."

The last thing Emily wanted to do was hurt Anders or make him feel like she didn't want to be with him. She knew that he was looking for a glimpse of the woman she was before their relationship ended in Kirkwall.

"I hope it wasn't too much of a burden on you." she said playfully.

He grinned. "Are you kidding? I will embrace you like that every night for the rest of my life if you'll let me."

The dark-haired mage reached up and tapped the end of his nose with her fingertip. "I just might have to hold you to that."

Anders shook his head before rolling her over onto her back. He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. "I swear it, my love. On my mother's name, on the blessed ashes of Andraste…on the Maker himself, I will be the husband you deserve or I will die trying."

Emily had never seen Anders like that before. He had always been charismatic and he could charm the small clothes off of almost any woman he encountered. From the moment they met, she had known him to be romantic and flirtatious. He knew how to speak to a woman, how to say just the right things to make her fall in love with him. But this…this was different. Never before had she seen him be so sincere, so desperate. For all the years they had known each other and had been together, she never felt so loved or needed by him as she did at that moment.

A pang of guilt stabbed at Emily's heart. That very moment was all she hoped for, all she had dreamed about for nearly eight years. But everything was different now. How could she ever allow Anders to dedicate his life to her so completely knowing that she was torn between her love for him and her love for Alistair?

But Alistair was gone, at least in that capacity. He had his duty to attend to and there would never be a place for her in his life once he became king. He would have to marry someone else and Emily would be left alone. On the other hand, here was Anders swearing his life to her. Promising to love her in a way that Alistair never could…and she did love Anders. She had to make a decision. She either had to tell Anders that she could no longer be with him and live off of the meager scraps of love that fell from the king's table, or she could put her faith in the man who had broken her heart so many times before and give him the chance to prove his love to her once again.

As she lay there, eyes closed and weighing her options, she ran her fingers through Anders long blonde hair, feeling his warm breath on her face. When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her, a look of anxious anticipation in his warm amber eyes. "You seemed reluctant to say yes to my proposal last night." he whispered as he frantically searched her emerald orbs. "Please…please let me prove myself to you, Emily."

In that moment, Emily made her decision. She desired a home and a family. When the war was over and the final battle had been won, more than anything she wanted children and a husband who adored her, the way her father had adored her mother…just the way Anders adored her at that very moment. And even if Anders was never able to give her children because of the taint in his blood, at least she could have one of the two things she longed for. With Alistair, she had no chance at a normal life. The best she could hope for was to be his mistress, and that was only until his queen grew tired of her and had her banished…or executed.

Emily smiled up at him. "I can think of nothing I want more than to be your wife, Anders."

The blonde mage's entire face lit up as he covered hers with soft kisses. Those small pecks turned into a tender but passionate kiss on her lips which led to them making love again. When they finally got out of bed, it was nearly lunchtime. Just as Anders was reaching for the door, it dawned on Emily that she needed to tell him about Alistair…before he found out from someone else. She knew that it would hurt him, but she felt that she needed to get everything out in the open before they took any vows.

"Anders" she called quietly. "Wait…there's something I think we need to talk about."

He circled to face her and then took her into his arms. He noticed the look of disquiet on her face and he began caressing her left cheek with his thumb. "What's wrong, love? You know you can tell me anything."

She pulled away from his embrace and turned her back to him. "It's about something that happened while you were away…after I thought you…well you know." She waited a few moments for him to say something, but when he didn't she continued. "I developed…feelings for someone else and we were…together a few times." She sighed and stared down at her feet. "We ended it before I even knew that you were alive. We realized that it would never work out between us. It's over, but I thought that I should be the one to tell you."

A thundering silence filled the room as Emily held her breath and waited for Anders to say something…to say anything. It seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke and when he did, his voice cracked. "Who?" he asked.

"Alistair" confessed the gifted woman.

"And you say it's over between the two of you?"

"Yes" she nodded.

She felt Anders' large hand softly grip her shoulder as he spun her around to face him. She peered up into his gentle amber eyes and was surprised to see understanding written in them. Tears began to stain her cheeks both for her fiancée's kindness and acceptance of the situation and for the loss her heart was feeling over Alistair.

"It's okay, Em" he murmured. "You thought I was gone forever. I cannot begin to imagine what kind of hell that must have been for you." He pressed his forehead to hers. "I don't know what I would ever do if I believed that you had died." He took her face into his hands. "You needed companionship and to feel some sort of connection" he reasoned as if trying to convince himself. "The important thing is that we are together again. That's all that matters." He held her close and she began to sob into his chest. "_Shhh…_it's going to be fine sweetheart. Please don't cry. I would tell you that I forgive you, but honestly…there's nothing to forgive. You did nothing wrong."

Emily couldn't believe her ears. She had never known Anders to be so forgiving, so understanding. She hugged him tighter and took in a deep breath. Maybe he _was_ finally the man she always knew he could be, the one that nobody else seemed to think him capable of being.

* * *

Alistair felt a boot lightly kicking the side of his head, bringing him out of his drunken stupor. He opened one eye to see the fuzzy image of the captain standing above him. He scowled.

"What do you want Isabela?"

She folded her arms over her chest. "A fleet of ships and a hundred treasure chests filled with gold." she snarked. "But I'll start with an explanation as to why you're lying stinking drunk in my cargo hold in a pool of your own vomit."

The prince sat up and put his hands atop his pounding head. It had been months since he drank like that, and he was definitely feeling it. "Not so loud, huh?" he growled. "There's really no need to shout."

"Oh sweetie, you haven't even begun to hear me shout. This is my quiet voice." she retorted. "So just what in the bloody hell do you think you're doing anyway?"

Squinting, Alistair began scanning the floor around him. He gave a small smile when he finally spotted what he was searching for… one last full bottle among all of the empties. He snatched it up, pulled the cork with his teeth, spit it out and began guzzling its contents. As he drank, droplets of burgundy began to flow down from the corners of his mouth and onto his stained shirt. He stopped when he had emptied nearly half the wine into his gullet, peered up at Isabela for a moment, let out a long breath and then promptly swigged the rest.

When he had finished, he slammed the container onto the boards between his legs. "I think, dear lady, that I am drinking. And it is my intention to remain 'stinking drunk' as you called it until either _it_ kills me or someone puts me out of my sodding misery." He took another quick look around him. "Sorry about the mess by the way. It will probably take a few days before this shit doesn't make me puke anymore."

"And what makes you think that there are enough spirits on board for you to drink yourself to death?"

He picked up one of the empty bottles and examined it. "You see this bottle?" he asked rhetorically. He pointed to an open box in the corner "There's a whole crate of this Tevinter bullshit right over there." He smirked and then pointed to another container sitting nearby. "And when the wine is gone, I happen to know that the Antivan rum you promised to that beady-eyed little bastard in Jader is back aboard and sitting right over there. So I think there will be plenty enough to last until I'm either extinct or we make port and I can get the hell away from this stinking ship."

The captain shook her head. "So this is what you intend to do from now on, is it?"

Alistair pursed his lips and nodded while taking in the room around him. "Pretty much…yeah."

"And what about Ferelden and Tevinter? What about your people _your majesty_?"

"Sod them all!" he bellowed as he got up and stumbled toward the wine crate. "Let Tevinter have Thedas! Let them have the whole bloody world for all I care. I'm personally hoping to be dead before the year runs out. If I'm lucky, maybe I'll be dead by the end of the month."

Isabela exhaled loudly with agitation. "Perhaps I should go get Hawke to come down here to talk some sense into you."

"Yeah...If you can pry her bloody lips away from Anders long enough." the besotted prince muttered bitterly.

The captain's head moved back and forth. "What the hell happened between you two anyway? I thought that you…"

Suddenly, Alistair stopped, put his back against the crate he had been rummaging through and slid to the floor. He placed his palms over his face and began to cry, but he did not cry like a normal man. It felt as if a dam had been let loose behind his eyes and the tears that flowed from them were trying to drown him. He choked mercilessly as he tried to catch his breath. His already shattered heart broke into a thousand more pieces. He had never felt pain like that in his entire life. He never even realized that it was humanly possible to hurt that much.

A bottle of clear liquid appeared in his lap as Isabela stooped next to him. "I'm sorry sweetie." she whispered as he uncorked the bottle and took a long draw from it.

Alistair wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's my own fault." he blubbered. "I told her that we didn't have a future because I was going to be king. I told her that we had to end it." He stared up at the pirate with pleading eyes. "But what good is having a kingdom if she's not there to share it with me?" He sniffed loudly and shook his head. "And then…and then Anders returns from the bloody dead and she falls right back into his arms, without even giving me or my feelings a second thought. She said she loved me Isabela, but how is that possible when she could just throw me aside so easily?"

The pirate took the prince's hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "She does love you Alistair. I saw it…felt it when we were in that spirit house. Didn't you?"

Another sniff. "Yeah, I felt it too…but I also felt that she still loved _him_."

Isabela shook her head sympathetically. "Sweetie, Hawke and Anders…they were always a foregone conclusion in Kirkwall. They were together for years. Do you really think she could just turn those feelings she had for him off with a snap of her fingers? If she could, is that really the type of woman you would want? The kind of woman you could love this much?"

Alistair never thought of it that way. He had already been with a woman like that once…uncaring and unfeeling. Emily was the warmest, most caring person he had ever met. There really would be no way that she could be the person he loved if she was capable of forgetting Anders so easily. He only wished that he didn't have to witness it.

"Besides," continued the captain. "Anders will probably screw it up somehow. He always does. He has never realized what he has in her and I doubt he ever will." She shrugged as she took a swig of rum. "When that happens, you'll be there to pick up the pieces…if you don't get stupid and drown yourself in Antivan rum first."

She handed the bottle back to him and stood. Alistair peered up at her with narrowed eyes. "Do you really think so? I mean…I don't want her to get hurt. The thought of him breaking her heart again makes me want to run him through, but do you really think there is even a small chance…for us?"

"I have found that anything's possible, sweetie" she smiled "especially when it comes to Hawke."

* * *

Anion paced back and forth between the railings that stood on either side of Isabela's cabin. He had been waiting all morning for his father to emerge. He had so many questions, so much he wanted to talk about.

"You know if you keep walking in the same spot like that, you're going to wear a hole right through to the bottom of the ship." he heard a girlish voice say. He looked up and saw Merrill sitting on the railing atop the captain's quarters, her legs dangling in midair over the side.

"Oh, hello Lethallan." he said in greeting. "I did not see you there."

"Are you nervous?" she asked "about talking to Anders I mean?"

"A little" he confessed. "We only spoke for a brief moment last night. I am still a little worried that he will not like me."

The Dalish girl giggled. "Of course he will like you. Anders likes everyone…well except Fenris…and probably Alistair…but I know he will love you. You are his son after all."

"That doesn't mean a lot to some people" the healer observed.

"But it does mean a lot to Anders." the elven woman told him as she jumped from her perch and landed next to him.

"And what makes you so sure of that?" the young man questioned.

"Because he told me so, silly." she stated as if it were a foregone conclusion.

Anion found himself very curious to find out what Merrill was trying to say, but she tended to talk in circles and rambled quite a bit. He wanted to ask her as straightforward as he could what she meant by those words.

"Merrill, what exactly did Anders say to you…about being a father I mean?"

"Oh, that…he told me that if he ever had children of his own that he would be a damn site better father than his own had been."

"What do you mean? What was his father like?" he prodded.

He jumped when he heard the answer to his question come to him in Anders' own voice. "My father never even pretended to care about me. In fact, he always seemed to resent the way my mother doted on me. When I was twelve, I came into my powers and accidently set fire to our barn. He called me an abomination. He told my mother that I was no longer allowed to enter our house because he did not want to be taken by a demon in his sleep. Three days later, the Templars showed up and shackled me in irons…my father had sent for them and he even earned a few silver for turning me in. My mother cried and held onto me, but he pulled her away.

As the Templars were leading me through our village, I heard my mother calling to me. I dragged my feet so she would have a chance to catch up and one of the men knocked me to the ground. Luckily, it bought the time my mother needed to close the gap. She told me that she loved me and that she was sorry. Then she gave me a small pillow that she had hand embroidered right after she found out that she was expecting me. She told me to keep it close and every night that I lay my head upon it, we would see each other in our dreams. At first, the Templars refused to let me keep it, but she gave them two gold pieces each to look the other way."

Anion's eyes began burning as he put a sympathetic hand on his father's shoulder. "I…I don't know what to say. Did you ever get the chance to see her again?"

Anders shook his head sadly. "No…after my second escape attempt from the Tower, the Knight-Commander took great joy in handing over a letter my father had sent informing me of my mother's death. He said that it was my fault…that my being an evil abomination had thrown her into such a depression that she stopped eating and died of a broken heart. I swore from that very day, that if I ever had children, they would never know that kind of pain. I would let them know that they were loved and important and special…whether they were mages or not."

The younger mage could see the hurt in his father's troubled eyes as he recounted the story of his youth. He embraced the older man with a warm hug. "I am so sorry, father."

Anders' amber eyes glistened as he took his son's face into his hands. "I don't give a damn what you have done wrong in your past or about the errors of your future. I am proud to call you my son. I only wish that I would have known about you years ago, but your mother never told me. I can't make up for lost time or the past, but I hope that you will allow me to be a part of your future."

"That's all I've ever wanted." Anion admitted with hopeful eyes.

A broad grin spread across the tall mage's face as he clapped a hand to the younger man's shoulder.. "Then why don't you join me for a late breakfast. I think we have some catching up to do."


	45. Chapter 45

Emily watched Anders lead Anion to the hatchway and down to the galley. She knew that they needed time alone together. She couldn't have been happier for the younger mage. He finally got the chance to get to know the man he had wondered about his entire life. He finally had a real family again. Emily had to smile at the fact that, if the Maker saw fit to allow them to have children, Anders was going to be a wonderful father. She could just picture him humming softly to a baby girl with warm amber eyes and thick dark-brown hair swaddled in a pink blanket.

"You seem very happy to have Anders back." came the curious voice of her Dalish friend.

Emily had become so lost in her daydream about her future family that she had completely forgotten that Merrill had been standing there. She nodded. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"But, what about the king?" the other woman asked. "I thought you loved him."

Emily sighed heavily as her smile turned into a frown. "It's…complicated Merrill. I do love Alistair, but…"

"It's obvious he loves you as well, Hawke" observed the elf. "Anyone can see it by the way he looks at you. Sort of the way Fenris use to…without all of the broodiness, of course."

"Of course." the human mage chuckled. Her demeanor became serious once again. "The thing is, Lethallan, it doesn't matter how much I love him or he loves me. He's going to be the King of Ferelden and that means we can't be together. No matter how much I would like for it to be otherwise, the law forbids it."

Merrill seemed confused. "But Hawke, if he's king, can't he just change the law?"

Emily shook her head. "No, because it isn't just the law of Ferelden, it's the law of the Chantry. The Chantry forbids any mage to be in a position of power."

Merrill made a pouty face and once again reminded the other mage of a small child. "Well, I think that is the stupidest law I have ever heard. Ferelden would be lucky to have you as its queen, Hawke."

Emily shrugged. "It's a moot point, Merrill. The law is the law and there is nothing I can do to change that. We actually made the decision to end it before we even got back to Jader. Besides, I thought you liked Anders."

"I love Anders…you know like an over-protective older brother…or like a father…I don't love him the way you love him, of course. That's what I have Isabela for." explained the elf with wide deep green eyes. "But he hurt you…a lot. I love you too, Hawke…you know…as a friend…or a big sister…anyway, I don't like to see you sad and you were sad all of the time before we left Kirkwall and you were even sadder when Anders died. Well, I guess he didn't really die, but you were really sad when you thought he was dead. And besides, Justice never seemed to like you much."

"Well, that's definitely true." Emily admitted. "But it doesn't seem like Justice is that big a part of him anymore, at least not that I've seen anyway. And Anders seems so sincere this time." She held up her finger, showing her friend the emerald engagement ring that the blonde mage had given to her. "He even gave me this…he asked me to marry him."

Merrill scowled. "But didn't he ask you that before?"

The other mage nodded. "Yes, but this time he wants to get married as soon as we dock. He doesn't want to wait. Last night, he even suggested that we let Isabela perform the ceremony today, since she is a captain."

"And you didn't like that idea?" the elf pried.

Emily bit her lip. "I told him that I wasn't sure it would be exactly legitimate since Isabela is a _pirate_ captain."

"And what was the _real _reason, Hawke?" Merrill inquired in a soft voice, her brows creased together.

"I didn't want to hurt Alistair." the other woman admitted. "I thought it might be too soon. I think in the end he will realize it's for the best, but I want to give him a few days to get used to the idea of me just being with Anders now before I spring _this_ news on him…and I would appreciate it if you didn't say anything to anyone about it."

"Not even Isabela?" questioned the Dalish girl.

"Alright, you can tell Isabela…but no one else."

"Okay, Lethallan, I promise. I will tell no one else your secret…but are you excited? About getting married I mean?"

Emily smiled. "You know…I kind of am."

* * *

As Isabela made her way up the ladder that led to the ship's main deck, she wrestled with her thoughts. Ever since she found Alistair in the cargo hold, she had been debating with herself as to whether or not she should tell Hawke. She even laid down on one of the hammocks below decks for a while to try to drive the image of the drunken bawling of the future King of Ferelden from her mind. No matter how much she attempted to get comfortable, she just couldn't and so she finally gave up on trying to get any rest.

The truth was that Alistair was a stone cold mess without Hawke and it was easy to see that he needed her if he was even going to have a chance at being the ruler of a country. Even though Isabela was glad to see that Anders was not dead, she knew that he was not what was best for Hawke. The captain assumed that Alistair made the decision that he and Hawke couldn't be together sometime after they left Ostagar, because he had been moody and quiet since. But before they reached the ruins, Isabela noticed that her best friend was happier than she had seen her in over a year. The simple fact of the matter was that Hawke needed Alistair as much as he needed her. The only problem was getting them to remove their heads from their asses long enough to see that.

Once she was back on the main deck, the captain spotted Merrill leaning against the midship starboard railing and the sight made her smile. The elf had her eyes closed and her head thrown back reveling in the salty spray that wet her face while a cool breeze blew through the bangs of her short dark hair. Isabela's lover had been a bit leery about sailing when they first started out from Ostwick due to the experience of being stuck in a cargo hold during her crossing from Ferelden, but when the captain showed the Dalish girl the true joys of sailing, Merrill took to it like a fish to water.

The elf turned and saw Isabela staring at her and flashed a shy grin. "Oh, I didn't see you there emma lath. I was just enjoying the feel of the sea on my face. I really missed this while I was traveling through Ferelden."

Isabela approached her lover and wrapped her arms around the other woman's waist from behind before softly kissing her cheek. "Well I missed this, Kitten." the pirate purred in the elf's ear.

Merrill put her arms over Isabela's and snuggled up closer to the pirate. "Me too. I missed this most of all."

The captain noticed that her girlfriend was antsy as the elf bounced up and down on the balls of her feet the way she always did when she was privy to some exciting gossip. Isabela chuckled as she gave the girl one more big squeeze before letting her loose. "I can see that you're about to pop your buttons, sweetie. Something's up and it must be big with how jumpy you are."

Merrill's mossy green eyes went wide as she bobbed her head excitedly. "Yes, it is big…very big…huge. But you have to swear that you won't tell anyone. Hawke told me I could tell you but she didn't want anyone else to know yet. So you have to promise."

"Yes, yes." Isabela laughed. As usual, the Dalish girl's enthusiasm was contagious. "I swear on the salt of the sea and its water in my veins. Just spill already."

"Hawke is getting married." Merrill squealed and then promptly covered her mouth. "Anders asked her last night and she said yes. She showed me the ring and everything. Isn't that exciting?"

The pirate's face dropped. She just couldn't share her lover's enthusiasm over the news. Hawke and Anders getting married would do nothing to further their efforts in the impending battle with Tevinter. In fact, she was afraid when Alistair found out he was going to go off the deep end completely. As it was, he was barely holding on by a very thin thread.

Isabela grimaced. "When?"

"Hawke says as soon as we make port." Merrill said with a slight pout. "But what's wrong emma lath? I thought you would be happy for her. She seems happy."

"It's hard to explain Kitten" the pirate sighed. "But I think she's making a huge mistake. Anders isn't the right man for her. Anders isn't the right man for anybody."

"But don't you like Anders?"

"Of course I like Anders." she admitted. "Anders is a really loveable guy when he's not all glowing blue and blowing up Chantries and shit." She shook her head. "Look I know he loves Hawke and I know that Hawke loves him…but sometimes that just isn't enough. Anders has too many issues that just can't be ignored no matter how much Hawke wants to believe differently…no matter how much he wants to believe differently. If she marries Anders, she's just going to end up hurt in the end…if Justice doesn't outright kill her first."

"So do you think Alistair is the right man for her?" Merrill questioned cautiously.

Isabela nodded. "Yes, I really believe that he is…you said that they are getting married at the next port?"

"Yes" replied the elf. "Hawke said that Anders wanted you to perform the service at first…"

"I wouldn't do that if they both tied me down and set fire to my ass." Isabela interrupted.

"Well Hawke said that she told Anders since you were a pirate it wouldn't be a legal marriage anyway."

Maybe there was hope yet. All Isabela knew was that somehow she had to stop Hawke from making the biggest mistake of her life. The captain gave her lover a short kiss. "Would you mind doing me a favor Kitten?"

"I would do anything for you, emma lath. You know that" responded the elf.

"Go find all of our friends and let them know that they need to be on the bridge in half an hour" the captain ordered gently. "I'm going to go talk some sense into Hawke's fool head, and if she doesn't listen to reason I might just have to plant my boot in her ass."

* * *

Fenris had been sitting in the corner of the crew quarters when Isabela passed by to head topside. She looked more distraught than he had seen her in a long time. Normally the pirate kept her demeanor cool if not sardonic, but Fenris could tell that she had something weighing heavy on her mind. No matter how hard he tried to get out of the habit, Fenris always found himself reverting to his old ways of watching everyone around him trying to gauge their patterns and their next moves. It was a skill he became well versed in during his years on the run.

His ears picked up the sound of light footsteps approaching him. A crooked grin adorned his face. The Wilder woman knew how to move agilely, Fenris had to give her that, but even _her_ gracefulness was no match for the elf's tracking skills. He had been around her enough to know not only the sound of her tiny feet maneuvering across the floor, but also the smell of the leather she wore mixed with her own unique musk. He closed his eyes as she neared.

"Avanna Nadia." he said in greeting when he heard her stop just out of range of his site.

"_Hmph_" she sounded. "One day I will be able to approach without your detection."

"You could try, I suppose." Fenris challenged.

"I just spoke to the elf Merrill" Nadia informed him, ignoring his provocation. "She asked me to tell you that the captain expects us on the bridge in half an hour."

The warrior finally opened his eyes and moved them up to meet the Wilder woman's. The sight of her standing above him caused his breathing to quicken slightly. Right after his experience in her village's spirit house, Fenris felt a connection with Nadia. Since that time, however, they had spoken on several occasions but nothing beyond friendly banter. She remained aloof for the most part and after giving it careful consideration he wasn't sure his heart was quite ready to move on.

"I imagine she wants to discuss what our next destination might be." the elf observed.

"That was my thought as well." agreed the barbarian.

She wordlessly hovered over him for several minutes, seemingly studying him with her cobalt blue eyes as she tended to do. He wondered what she saw or was trying to discover when she stared at him in that manner.

"Did you have a question?" he finally asked after she had begun to make him fell a bit uneasy.

Nadia shook her head. "Not really…only…I find myself curious about something."

"What is that?" Fenris asked.

"If the eidola grant us victory against the Imperials, what do you intend to do when all of this is finished?"

That was something Fenris had never really thought about. Ever since he could remember, he had taken one day at a time. He never made plans for anything. He never dared to be so presumptuous as to believe that tomorrow was just a given promise.

He shrugged. "I do not know…why do you ask?"

"As I said, I was just curious." she replied nonchalantly, but Fenris could tell that there was more to it than that.

"People like us are never curious without a reason" the warrior observed. "There is an underlying question that you are not asking. I would rather you simply ask than to beat around the bush as Hawke would say."

The Wilder woman scowled. "Fine. I will speak plainly then...Is it your intention to remain at Hawke's side when this battle is ended?"

"I have not really given it any thought, but I did swear an oath of loyalty to Hawke."

"But where does that oath end? Would you give up your life for a woman who does not want you as a lover?" she inquired.

Her question stabbed at Fenris's heart and caused him to wince slightly, but he did tell her to be blunt. "I…I suppose if that is what she wishes," he stammered "but you must understand…I owe everything to Hawke. She helped me kill Danarius and allowed me to finally live as a free man."

Nadia shook her head, a sorrowful expression that was full of pity coloring her face. "But you are not free, mo chara. You simply traded one master for another. You still wear the chains of a slave because you have given your life, your freedom to Hawke."

Fenris suddenly remembered the words that Flemeth spoke to him in the forest outside of Wesburn. _…the shackles that bind you are of your own making, fashioned from something even more powerful. _He had known exactly what the witch was talking about when she said it, but he continued to deny that there was any truth to her words or to Nadia's.

"I am no one's slave woman" he hissed. "I remain at Hawke's side because it is my choice to do so. I gave my oath to her on my own volition. When I was a slave, I did not have the option to do anything just because it was what I wanted. If I told Hawke that I was leaving as soon as the ship docks, she might ask me to stay but she would do nothing more to stop me if that is what I really wanted. You have never known what it was like to be a slave, so please do not try to reason with me about things you do not ever have a hope of understanding."

The Wilder woman narrowed her lids angrily at him. "I spent six years as a prisoner to men who directed my every move. The things they made me do…I consider that slavery. You only got a small taste of what that abuse was like compared to the things that I had to endure. I understand better than anyone on this ship what you suffered. The fact is, you are a fool Fenris. You asked me to not 'beat around the bush' so I will not. Hawke does not love you. If she ever did it was long ago.

"Shut up." Fenris muttered, his rage bubbling just under the surface.

The small woman continued despite the clear glare of warning in the elf's eyes. "She may call you her best friend, but you will never again be the one she shares her bed with. When this is over, do you really think her new lover will want you hanging around begging for her attention when the mood strikes her to give it to you? You will be thrown to the wayside as common garbage." She began pacing like a tiger trapped in a cage. "Oh, I am sure she will be nice about it, because that is the type of person that she is, but she will still want you to go eventually…to find your own life. And then what will you do Fenris? Where will you be left when you have no Hawke to follow like a love-stricken mabari?"

With those words, Fenris lost all control of his temper. His blinding rage overflowed and his glowing lyrium lines began to pulse in time with the rapid beating of his heart. Before he could stop himself, he put his hand to Nadia's throat and pushed her against the wall, lifting her feet from the floor until her face was level with his. She spit a tremendous wad of saliva right between his eyes in defiance of his actions. It would have been so easy…all he had to do was squeeze and the truth that she had spoken would have been silenced, the light extinguished from those probing sapphires that were able to see down to the depths of his very soul.

Suddenly, his mind was overtaken by his lust for the woman he was holding captive. He no longer wanted to kill her…he wanted to kiss her…to conquer her…to make her his own. Then the image of what her kidnappers had done to her flashed through his mind. His hand opened immediately and she crumpled to the floor like a sail that's riggings had been snapped in a heavy gale.

"I apologize" he whispered softly, his heart filled with shame for his thoughts as much as his actions.

As he turned from her and began to walk away, he felt a small hand on his bicep which whirled him around violently to face the woman he had just wronged in the worst way he thought possible. Her lips were pursed and her blue eyes wide as her small chest rose up and down with her panting. She reached up and slapped him across his face so hard that he heard his jawbone crack. She repeated her action and the second time her fingers swiped across his nose. He felt blood running down onto his lip but he did not make a move to wipe it away.

Then Nadia did something completely shocking. She pushed him against the wall he had just had her pinned to not moments before, grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled his lips down to hers. Then, almost as suddenly as it began, she pushed him away and silently headed for the ladder leading topside, leaving him completely dazed and confused.


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N: I apologize for it taking so long to get this chapter finished and posted. I was trying to get at least a chapter posted every couple of days, but unfortunately, RL has interfered with my writing over the past two weeks with a vengeance. My home burned down on May 22 and my family barely escaped with our lives and the clothes on our backs. The only material things I managed to save were my netbook and my ipad (neither with chargers). Everything else was lost. I have since ordered new chargers for both and I finally got a chance to sit down and compose this chapter. I will try to update more frequently now, but probably not at the rate I was at earlier, at least not until things settle down a bit more.**

It didn't take Isabela long to find Hawke sitting on the netting of the bowsprit staring out at the blue-green water of the sea. The dark-haired mage must have felt the mesh beneath her move as the pirate climbed upon it because she turned her head to see who was coming to join her.

"Oh, good morning Izzy." Hawke called out with a smile.

Isabela remained silent until she had taken a seat next to her friend. "Hey Sweetpea" she answered back once her bottom was firmly planted. "What are you doing out here?"

"Just thinking" the mage replied. "Anders is still in the galley with Anion, so I decided to climb out for some peace and quiet while I waited for him to return."

The pirate fiddled with the cord of the net below her for a few moments before she spoke. "Hawke…that's what I wanted to talk to you about…Anders I mean."

"I'm guessing Merrill told you our plans."

Isabela sighed quietly. "Yes, she did."

"And I take it you don't approve of my decision."

The captain bit her bottom lip and slowly shook her head. "No…I don't. I mean, don't get me wrong Hawke. I like Anders well enough. Hell, I did everything I could short of tying the two of you up to get you together back in Kirkwall." She took in a deep breath. "Balls!" she whispered to herself. "This is harder than I thought it was going to be." She cleared her throat. "The thing is, Hawke…the thing is, Anders is a really sweet man and I know he loves you, but after what he did in Kirkwall…well... I'm afraid you might be in danger if you're with him.

"I always thought he was a bit dangerous before, and that was kind of part of his charm…I just never thought him capable of doing anything like blowing up a Chantry and murdering all of those innocent people. I've always known he was a bit crazy…hell, which one of us isn't? But that…that was just ape shit nuts."

"Isabela," Hawke began patiently "I appreciate your concern, but you're not a mage. You just don't understand. Sometimes it takes something shocking and tragic to get people's attention…to effect change."

"I'll admit it was a bold move and it definitely caught a lot of people's attention" agreed the captain. "Wait...are you trying to tell me that you think what he did was right?"

"Well I certainly wouldn't have done it that way" her friend responded. "But Anders was desperate. I think he felt like it was the best way to get people to finally take sides and to act. I'm almost certain Justice convinced him of that. I also think that Justice believed that the Grand Cleric and anyone else in the Chantry were not innocents. The Chantry is responsible for the oppression of mages, therefore anyone who is involved in it is guilty."

Isabela scowled. "Now you sound just like Anders."

Hawke shrugged. "Anders is an intelligent man and being a mage myself, he makes a lot of good points. I haven't stood by his side all of these years only because of my love for him, you know. I actually believe in his cause…I just sometimes don't agree with his methods."

"But is that any reason to rush into getting married?" countered the pirate. "Okay, so maybe you don't think what he did was as insane as the rest of us do, but that doesn't mean he's not unstable. You've seen him lose control and have that spirit take over. What happens if _you _piss Justice off one of these days and he turns on you? Everyone knows that bastard hates you. He thinks you're a distraction From Anders' higher purpose. Anders has even said so himself. What will you do when he decides he wants you out of the way once and for all? At worst, he'll kill you and at best Anders will end up breaking your heart again. No matter how much you wish for it, you will never be first in that man's life. You know that."

Hawke shook her head and the Rivaini could see angry tears forming in the other woman's eyes. "You don't understand Isabela" exclaimed the mage. "I'm not like you. Fighting and adventuring was all well and good for a while, but eventually I want more from my life. I want a husband and children. I want a home…a family." She looked down to study her crossed ankles and her voice took on a soft, sad quality. "The revolution has already begun and when this thing with Tevinter is over, I honestly believe that Anders can give those things to me. I really think that he _will _put me first when this thing is done."

Isabela grabbed her friend by the shoulders and stared intently into her green eyes. "Listen to yourself, Hawke. You've known Anders long enough to know that he will never be capable of giving you what you want. You're talking about marrying him…do you even know his real name?"

The mage visibly winced at that question before furrowing her brows. "I asked him once and he refused to tell me. He said it didn't matter because he wasn't that person anymore."

"So you're going to get married and you won't even know your surname" posed the captain. "Not to mention the fact that you can't exactly walk into a Chantry and ask a priestess to marry you two. How are you going to do that when you've both got a bounty on your heads? And what about Justice? Do you think _he _will be content to simply live the life you want? And let's not forget that Anders just walked out on you after you lost his baby because he couldn't handle the pressure. I don't want to hurt you Hawke, but who's to say that he won't do it again? At least think about what you're getting into before you jump in with both feet."

"And what would you have me do Isabela?" Hawke implored with a strained voice and a tear trickling down her cheek.

"What about Alistair?" questioned the pirate. "He loves you, Hawke. Since we've been traveling with him I've seen how much. It's pretty obvious. I've also seen that he's a good and decent man. After that whole thing with Fenris years ago, you told me the kind of man you wanted to find. I honestly believe that Alistair is that man."

"Yeah," spat the mage bitterly "except for the tiny detail that he's going to be king which means I can never be more than his mistress."

"You don't know that for certain." Isabela argued. "There are always ways to get around things and that doesn't even mean that he needs to give up his throne to do it. You're a problem solver Hawke. If anybody can figure it out, you can."

The other woman shook her head. "Not this time, Isabela. I've bent and broken a lot of laws and rules in my time, but this one…it's ironclad."

"Then hang the Chantry!" countered the pirate. "After Kirkwall, it's practically non-existent anyway. At least think about it…promise me that you'll at least do that…for me. Please, Hawke?"

The green-eyed mage sighed loudly before nodding her assent. "Fine…I don't see how it will help, but I'll think about it."

Isabela grinned widely. "Thank you, Sweetpea…now we should probably get to the helm. We need to figure out where we're going."

* * *

As she made her way to the back of the ship, Emily wanted nothing more than to punch the woman who was accompanying her. Isabela had made some good points, which was the main reason why the mage had such a strong desire to knock the pirate's lights out. While she was sitting alone on the bowsprit, Emily had asked herself many of the same questions which made her more confused than ever.

Alistair was a good man. The first thing that attracted her to him was the overwhelming chemistry she felt between them. Once they were on the road and after he had managed to work through most of his bitterness regarding Erin Amell, Emily began to see that Alistair was fair-minded, kind, compassionate, funny, fairly intelligent and very passionate in his convictions. He reminded her of a knight from the fairy stories her mother used to read to her when she was a child. He wasn't perfect of course. He had a tendency to be harsh in his judgments of himself, his self-esteem was crap, and he had a penchant for trying to escape into a bottle when things went very badly for him. But his issues were relatively minor compared to those of the other two men Emily had been with. Alistair really was everything she had ever wanted, but they were never going to be able to be together. Ferelden needed a king and Emily knew without a doubt that once he took the crown, Alistair would be the ruler the country needed.

Once they reached the bridge, she spotted Anders and he beamed brightly which caused her heart to beat faster. When he stood behind her and wrapped his strong arms around her waist, Emily immediately melted into his body. For a moment, every thought of Alistair left her brain and she simply basked in the feel of the blonde mage's embrace.

She felt his lips softly brush against her cheek. "Maker, I've missed you love" he whispered in her ear.

Emily smiled up at him. "I've missed you too, sweetheart."

He squeezed a little tighter. "I can't wait to get you back into bed. We have a lot of lost time to make up for you know."

The dark-haired mage giggled girlishly as Anders walked her backward until he was sitting atop a medium-sized crate. He pulled her down onto his lap and she could feel his excitement pressing into her bottom. She turned her head in order to flash him a coy grin. His lips turned up into a sexy, crooked smirk and his warm amber eyes twinkled with mischief. A lifetime passed as they became caught up in each other's stare and Emily was reminded why she was so quick to once again agree to marry the older mage. She loved Anders…she always had. She wasn't always happy with the things he did, but he was an amazing man. Even though there were some questions she still wanted answers to, any doubts she had about becoming Anders' wife dissolved as she became lost in his soft brown eyes.

Emily had no idea how long she and her lover sat like that but she was abruptly brought out of her trance by the sound of Isabela's voice. "Alright you lot" the pirate began. "We need some sort of idea of where we should be going. We can't just wander around aimlessly on the ocean until Satinalia."

"We really need more allies" offered Alistair from the other side of the helm.

Emily looked in his direction and noticed that his hazel eyes were puffy and bloodshot. A small breeze blew from his direction and carried the scent of rum upon it. Her heart sank when she thought about the fact that he had picked up his old habit because of her. The prince avoided her gaze, but focused his glare on the blonde mage whose chin was resting upon her shoulder.

She felt Anders' arms tighten around her. "Do you have any suggestions?" he asked. "Or are you expecting the rest of us to come up with all of the answers?"

"I have a few," Alistair sneered "but you probably aren't going to like any of them."

"Okay boys" Isabela chastised. "We really don't have time for a pissing contest. You can fight over Hawke later. Right now we need to figure this out."

"What about your friends in Llomerynn, emma lath?" Merrill suggested. "They would make a fine navy."

"I already planned on talking to them" replied the pirate. "It's just too bad that bastard Javaris didn't get the formula for gatlock. We could really use something like that."

"Gatlock?" questioned the prince. "What's that?"

"The Qunari use it on their dreadnoughts. It's a powder they use to fire their cannons. Unless we have mages on board to help fire them, Raiders don't use cannons. We simply board other ships and fight it out, which would make attacking a city full of mages nearly impossible and therefore would make any navy we have less effective."

"What about lyrium?" asked Alistair. "I know that a similar formula can be made from it."

"Do you know how to make it?" queried the pirate. "And let's not forget the fact that we don't exactly have a huge supply of lyrium at our disposal."

"Well maybe our friend that returned from the dead can help us out" snarked the prince. "I hear he knows a lot about explosives."

"Actually," Anders proposed, ignoring Alistair's taunt "I know a dwarf that might be able to help us with a formula for the powder. He was at the Keep when I was there and was able to come up with some pretty wicked explosives from lyrium sand. In fact, he was known as Dworkin the Explosives Dwarf"or Dworkin the Mad, whichever you preferred."

"I've heard of him" Emily nodded "but didn't the Qunari force him into hiding?"

"Yes" replied Anders "but when I was traveling through the Free Marches trying to find you, I came across him in a hut outside of Ostwick. He now goes by the name Hesar, although from what I heard around the village, they still call him mad."

"But how will we get the lyrium sand?" questioned Alistair.

A wide grin spread across Emily's face as she took in her other companions. Almost simultaneously they said the same name. "Varric." Emily then shook her head. "His contacts in the Carta could help us. The only problem is, after he was captured by the Seekers, I don't have a clue where to find him."

"He's in Nevarra." Anders told them. "In Cumberland…I heard one of the Seekers talking at the tavern before any of you arrived back in Jader."

"And they didn't notice you?" Merrill asked with surprise. "As tall as you are, I would think that you would stand out a bit."

"Since Kirkwall, I've managed to find ways to go unnoticed." he replied with an amused smirk. "I only wish I had been better at it all of those times I escaped the Tower when I was younger."

Alistair opened his mouth and Emily spoke quickly before he could say anything else derogatory toward Anders. "Then I suppose that means the first place we need to go is Cumberland so we can find Varric."

"Then what?" Nadia spoke up from next to the captain's wheel. Emily noticed earlier that the Wilder woman had been fingering the wood of the spokes, but had crossed her arms to her chest before she spoke. "We will waste time if we have these conversations about what is to be done between every stop. We should have a full plan leading up to the day we return to Ferelden."

"You're right, Nadia" agreed Alistair.

"Of course I am" the barbarian proclaimed.

"If I may," Fenris interjected "other than their use of magic, one of the things that makes the Imperial army so strong is its use of heavy horses. I doubt that they will bring many if any at all from Tevinter, but if we can secure a cavalry, it would work to our advantage."

"It's a good idea Fenris, but I don't know of anyone with that many horses at their disposal" Alistair objected "let alone war horses. The only horse lords I know of are in the Free Marches and Nevarra and I daresay that I don't know any of them personally."

"Hawke does." Merrill stated with a wide-eyed grin.

"Oh no." Emily protested as she moved her head back and forth. "We don't need a cavalry that badly."

"He'll kill us on sight, Merrill." Anders agreed.

"No he won't" Emily sighed loudly. "He'll have us tortured first…then he'll kill us…slowly and painfully."

"Either way, it's not an option" said Anders.

Alistair wrinkled his brows together with confusion. "Who are you talking about?"

"Sebastian Vael." Emily explained. "The newly crowned Prince of Starkhaven, former Chantry brother and my once-upon-a-time companion.…It's almost flattering, the bounty he put on my head is bigger than the one the Chantry has out on me."

"And it's a paltry sum compared to the reward for my capture." Anders added.

"I almost forgot about him. Well, maybe I could talk to him." Alistair posed. "I am going to be King of Ferelden after all and it could open up trade between our two lands. He has to be somewhat reasonable. Surely he'll see the benefit in aiding us."

Anders harrumphed and Emily shook her head. "You don't know Sebastian and you didn't see his face when he vowed revenge after I refused to kill Anders. If he knows that you are with me, he'll probably start a war with Ferelden after we drive Tevinter out just for spite."

"Emily," Alistair reasoned "we have to try. You know the truth of that."

As soon as the prince said her first name, Emily felt Anders shift uncomfortably beneath her. No one but the mage ever called her by her first name. She turned in time to see bright blue flash across his eyes for just an instant. He glared at Alistair menacingly.

"So you would put Emily's life in danger? For what?" he sneered. "A few horses? It's not worth it, your highness. Think of something else."

"Maybe we could barter with Sebastian. We could hand over Anders in exchange for the prince's promise to aid in the upcoming battle." Fenris offered jokingly with a small chuckle.

"That sounds like a brilliant idea, Fenris." Alistair agreed and Emily could tell it was only partially in jest.

Anders, however, found no humor in the two men's banter at all. She felt her lover's muscles tense just before he stood, nearly knocking her to the planks below. The familiar eerie blue glow that announced Justice's presence shone throughout Anders' skin and clothes and acrid black smoke rose from his body. In mere seconds, the blonde mage crossed the length of the helm and grabbed Alistair's throat. Anders' shoulders and chest lifted and fell rhythmically with his heavy breathing as his large hand squeezed the other man's neck.

**_"We will not be the source of your amusement human." _**an ethereal voice bellowed from Anders' lips. **_"You were told that the Prince of Starkhaven is not an option. I suggest that you find another way now and speak no more on the subject. This is your one and only warning."_**

With that, Anders shook his head and the blue light was gone. He promptly dropped Alistair to the floor of the ship and muttered a half-hearted apology to the prince. While Alistair rubbed his neck and glared at his assailant, the tall mage took a glance around at the others that surrounded him and hung his head before quickly returning to his place atop the crate. He stared at the toes of his boots for a moment before looking up at Emily with pleading eyes, silently begging her pardon for losing his temper in that manner. He simultaneously held out a timid hand and held onto his breath, waiting to see if she would forgive him and take his peace offering. She exhaled slowly before placing her small fingers in his palm and then returned to his lap. He kissed her cheek tenderly before whispering a quiet "Thank you" in her ear.

"So it is true." Nadia gasped as if she hadn't breathed since the incident began. "You do have an eidolon residing within you."

Anders nodded. "It's a bit more complicated than that, but for all intents and purposes, yes" he confirmed with a great deal of shame." He is a spirit of Justice that has been corrupted by my anger."

The Wilder woman shook her head sympathetically. "It is not just you who is responsible for this corruption you speak of, but I suppose that makes little difference now. The question is, are you a danger to those of us you will be traveling with?"

"He has always been a danger to us." Fenris hissed.

"Enough!" Emily snapped as she stood from her place upon her mate's knees. She refused to put up with Fenris's and Anders' fighting anymore. "Anders is as much a part of this as any of the rest of us and I will not allow you to say such things about him. If you don't think you can handle that then maybe it's better that we part ways at the next port."

"You can't be serious, Hawke." Fenris said in disbelief.

"Trust me, Fenris" she exclaimed "I am dead serious. This thing between you has gone on long enough. You are both very important to me and I would hate to lose either of you as either comrades in arms or as friends, but I am sick to death of this bullshit." She turned her attention to Alistair, her face set with determination. "And you! I won't put up with it from you anymore than I will from Fenris. Anders is here to stay. If you don't like it…then shove it up your ass."

She pivoted on her heel to stomp away, but Anders grabbed her and pulled her close to his chest. In her anger, Emily struggled against him, but he held her tighter for a few minutes before taking her face in his big hands. He pressed his forehead to hers, his warm amber eyes staring deeply into her green ones.

"Calm down, Em" he murmured, his warm breath caressing the skin of her nose and cheeks. "It's okay. Fenris has a right to his opinion. I promise that I will try to keep a better check on my temper. I am so sorry about Justice coming out like that. I thought I had him under better control. Can you forgive me, my love?"

Emily felt irate tears stinging her eyes and blinked furiously. "I am not angry with you sweetheart. They provoked that. I cannot believe that they would say such things. That was cruel of them and I am sorry. They are supposed to be my friends and they had no right to even joke about such a thing." She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see that the other two men had been standing directly behind her.

"I apologize Hawke." Fenris said with a great deal of sincerity to Emily's complete surprise. He then held out his hand to her lover. "I am sorry Anders. Even though it was only in jest, it was uncalled for."

The blonde mage clasped Fenris's wrist and gave him a small nod. "It's fine, Fenris…Sorry if I overreacted."

Anders turned his attention to Alistair who was staring at the mage with disdain while his arms were folded tightly across his chest. The prince's lack of sincerity didn't surprise Emily at all. "Yeah…sorry" he stated reluctantly and Emily could see that her mate didn't want to accept the prince's half-hearted apology. After a few tense moments, Anders held out his hand and, grudgingly, Alistair finally grasped the other man's forearm.

"Sorry about your neck" the mage mumbled before adding "I hope I didn't hurt you too badly."

Emily bit her lip anticipating Alistair's inevitable tirade, but the prince took the jab in stride and just gave the taller man a scowl and a curt nod. The brunette's former lover then turned his attention to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. The smell of Antivan rum and Tevinter wine mixed with his cologne assaulted her senses. That along with the feel of his body pressed against hers made Emily feel a bit light headed.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart" he breathed softly into her ear. "I guess I'm just a bit jealous. Seeing the two of you together like that just made me a little crazy, that's all. Forgive me…my love?"

She nodded as her body shuddered beneath the feel of his lips as they brushed ever so subtly against her lobe just before he backed away. Emily stole a glance at Anders and noticed the daggers he was staring into the back of the prince's head. She could see that it was taking every bit of self-control the larger man had to keep Justice at bay. She could also tell by the expression on Alistair's face that he was just looking for an excuse to fight. Anders took him by surprise before, but the prince obviously thought he was prepared for it if the mage attacked again.

Emily was still staring at Alistair when Anders took her hand again and squeezed it gently. "I love you" he smiled with a bit of apprehension.

"I love you too, Anders." she reassured him with a loving grin and the tension in his shoulders visibly relaxed.

"Now that we're through _that _little drama" Isabela interrupted "can we please get back to the business at hand?" When no one said anything, the pirate continued. "So we are in agreement that going to Starkhaven is out…what's next?"

"What about Aveline?" Merrill offered. "She would help us wouldn't she?"

"I'm pretty sure that she has enough to deal with trying to keep order in Kirkwall right now" Emily replied. "Besides, I'm not sure that showing up there would be any better than going to Starkhaven."

"Well then," pressed the Dalish woman "what about that Knight-Captain? Cullen was his name wasn't it? He would help us. He did before. Maybe he could get some of the templars to fight with us and Aveline could get some of the guard and the rest could stay and defend the city."

Anders shook his head. "You must be joking." He addressed the others. "Please tell me that she's joking."

"Merrill," Emily explained patiently "Cullen is a templar. The templars are looking for us so they can take us to Val Royeaux where they want to execute us. I just don't think that the Knight-Captain will help us under those circumstances."

"From what I heard, most of the templars have broken away from the Chantry" countered the elf.

"Yes, I heard that too Merrill" Anders claimed, trying to keep his voice calm "but the templars broke away in order to hunt mages without the rules of the Chantry dictating how they could handle the rebels once they were caught. That's not a good thing."

"But Cullen isn't like that." Merrill argued. "He helped us. He likes Hawke. I know he will help us against Tevinter if we ask."

To Emily's own surprise, the Dalish woman's argument actually began to make a bit of sense. Maybe Cullen would be willing to help. If she could get him to work with Aveline, Kirkwall's templars and the city guard could make a battalion to be reckoned with. "Well, maybe we could send Alistair and Nadia into the city to feel things out."

"You can't possibly be considering this, Em." Anders stated incredulously. "We're as good as dead if we step foot into Kirkwall again. We might as well paint giant targets on our backs."

"It's worth a try," the emerald-eyed mage shrugged "and we'll do it with as little danger to ourselves as possible."

"If that's really what you think is best" Anders conceded reluctantly before adding "but let the record show that I think this is a really colossally bad idea."

Emily turned and brushed a blonde tendril away from his scruffy cheek. "Your objection is noted sweetheart and I promise we'll be extra careful. I'm not going to do anything to lose you again."

He smiled and caressed the side of her face with his thumb. "Okay then, Kirkwall it is I guess." He leaned in and whispered into her ear so the others couldn't hear him. "I must admit that Justice isn't very thrilled with you right now though, but he is just going to have to deal with it. I trust you Em and I will be by your side no matter what your decision may be."

She turned her lips and kissed his palm tenderly. She just hoped that his trust wasn't misplaced because deep in the recesses of her mind, Emily wasn't even sure how much she believed in this new plan, but they were desperate for help and they had to at least try. If they could convince Cullen to help them, Kirkwall's templars would make a great deterrent against the magic of the Imperial magisters.

She glanced at Alistair, who was once again leaning against the opposite rail to see if she could gauge his thoughts on the subject, but he was too engrossed in boring holes into Anders to distinguish what his thoughts might possibly be. Somehow Emily had to find a way for the two men to be civil to each other or the whole thing was going to end up being an immense disaster. One thing she knew for certain was that she was definitely not going to mention her impending nuptials anytime soon.

The only thing she could think to do was get the prince alone to talk to him. Maybe she could calm him down and get him to see reason. Alistair's eyes moved from Anders to meet hers and Emily's heart skipped a beat when his hazel orbs softened as if he were trying to tell her that he loved her without actually saying the words aloud. Without thinking, she answered him in kind with her own gaze which begged the question, how was she ever going to trust herself to be alone with him?


	47. Chapter 47

Alistair's fury was quelled by one look into Emily's eyes. No matter how angry he had gotten at that blonde bastard who had assaulted him just minutes before, it melted away when he saw those emeralds shine like that. Even though she was with Anders and even after the words she said to him in her outrage, he could see without a doubt that she still loved him. The truth was written all over her face. His breath quickened at the thought of holding her in his arms and it was all he could do not to take her into his embrace again.

His gaze turned back to Anders and he scowled. What in the Maker's name did she see in him anyway? Isabela and Fenris were right about one thing. He was a very dangerous man. Alistair knew that if he did nothing else for the rest of the journey, he would be keeping a close eye on the mage. If that son of a bitch did anything to hurt Emily, he would pay for it with his life, Fade spirit or not.

"Alistair?" he heard a small female voice say. "Or should I call you your Highness? Or is it your Majesty? I'm not sure how to address you really and I certainly wouldn't want to get it wrong you know…What do you want to be called?"

"Alistair is fine, Merrill" he said with a small chuckle. The elf was a bit scatter-brained and she may have been a blood mage, but the prince couldn't help but like her. She was so childlike and seemed so innocent, which made him wonder how in the hell she ended up with someone like Isabela. Love was certainly a very strange emotion at times and rarely made any sense at all. If it were as easy as being able to choose whom you loved, Alistair would have never allowed himself to fall for Emily as hard as he had. As he watched Anders tighten his arms around the brunette's waist, he wished to the Maker he could just shut her out of his heart completely. That would make his life so much simpler.

"Okay, Alistair it is then" the Dalish woman grinned. "But only if you are absolutely sure that's acceptable to you."

The prince shook his head with a smirk. "Yes Merrill, I already said it was fine. All of my friends call me Alistair and I consider you a friend."

Her face brightened even more as her lips grew wider. "The King of Ferelden considers me a friend. Tamlen would have been so jealous of that." The smile faded and the elf's face took on a look of solace as she suddenly went completely silent.

"Did you have a question, Merrill?" he asked, trying to bring her from the dark thoughts that had apparently begun to haunt her.

She shook her head a bit before answering. "Oh, yes…sorry…anyway, I was just wondering if there was anyone that you know that we could call upon for help."

Alistair screwed up his face as he concentrated for a few minutes before waggling his head. "No, I don't think so. Other than Teagan, Oghren, Wynn, Morrigan and Erin the only other people I know are the Seeker Leliana and Zevran the Antivan Crow. Zevran might help if we can find him, but I doubt that Leliana will."

"Alistair?" Emily questioned with curiosity. "When I met Zevran, he was running from the Crows because he failed to kill Erin, right?"

The prince shrugged casually. "Yes, Teryn Loghain put a contract out on any surviving Grey Wardens and Zev was sent to do the job. When he failed to kill Erin and joined us, his life was forfeit because he didn't fulfill that contract."

The green-eyed mage pursed her lips and narrowed her lids in thought for a few minutes. "So what would happen if he fulfilled the contract now? I mean…would they forgive his transgressions and allow him to be a Crow again if he so wished it?"

Alistair shook his head. "I doubt it. He said that since he failed to do his job, the Crows would kill him on principal."

"Besides," added Fenris "why would he want to? The Antivan Crows are little better than glorified slaves. Most of them are bought and trained as children. They especially like buying elves. Would you want to go back to that?"

"Well, what if they were prepaid to fulfill that contract again and Zevran was requested to be the one to do the job, would they at least consider letting him go free if the coin was good enough?"

"I honestly don't know…I guess anything is possible" the prince told her. "Why? What do you have in mind?"

Emily crossed her bare arms over her chest. She was wearing the black leather halter corset and breeches that drove Alistair to complete distraction. "The Crows are considered the best assassins in Thedas right?" the future king nodded. "I'm just wondering...if we offer them enough money do you think they might be willing to stop chasing Zevran. I mean honestly, what does it matter who actually kills her if she's still dead in the end? Maybe we can even buy the services of more of the assassins to help us in the final battle."

"Hawke, you're talking about a lot of money." Isabela interjected. "Where do you plan on coming up with that kind of coin? We didn't exactly have time to go back and get anything out of your mansion."

She smiled impishly. "No, we didn't…but as far as I know, I still own it."

"Don't you think that the ruling class would have seized all of your assets after what happened?" the pirate asked.

The other woman shook her head. "With Meredith gone, the only ones that would do that would be the templars or the city guard. I know that Aveline wouldn't allow it from the guard and I highly doubt that Cullen would take it either."

"Are you sure that it is even still standing after what happened?" Alistair asked throwing a contemptuous scowl in Anders' direction.

"According to Varric's contact in Ostwick it is." the brunette replied.

"So you want to sell it and use the money to pay for the services of the Crows?" queried Alistair. "It still may not be enough to do what you want."

"Probably not," Emily agreed "but it's a start. If we're going to Kirkwall anyway, we can get in through the entrance in Darktown and I can get the rest of the coin that I kept in the mansion."

"I'm sure that looters already stripped the place during the chaos" Fenris reasoned. "I highly doubt there is anything left."

"The furniture is gone along with any jewelry or valuables of that sort that were even close to being out in the open." Anders finally spoke in order to clarify the situation. When they began to eyeball him questioningly, he shrugged. "I did manage to sneak back into the city once just a few weeks after the battle. There was something that I wanted to grab from my clinic and I wanted to see if there was any news on your whereabouts, Em. I managed to get into the mansion through the hidden door in the basement. Luckily, no intruders were able to find it after you enchanted it the way you did."

"Why did you go into Emily's house Anders?" Alistair asked with an accusatory tone.

"I had hoped to recover a few of the things that I knew she would have wanted" the blonde mage replied with a leer. "Besides, it was my home as well."

"It was my understanding that you moved out months before Emily left the city" the other man pressed.

"Yes, I did" Anders responded with a smug expression "but since Emily and I reconciled before the battle, I was fairly certain she wouldn't mind." He then turned to his love. "I was hoping to find your mother's wedding ring for you, but her room had been ransacked and anything of value was taken. I'm sorry."

The emerald-eyed mage shook her head with a sad smile. "It's okay, Anders. I never expected to get it back after we left Kirkwall, but thank you for trying just the same."

"I hope that you don't mind," he said uneasily "but I took a couple of pouches of gold from one of your hiding places in the basement before I locked it up again. I will pay you back when I can, but I needed some money so I could buy information or bribe my way out of trouble if I had to."

Emily softly scratched the scruff of his left cheek. "I understand sweetheart and it's fine. You know you don't need to pay me back for anything."

"I'm surprised that you would take the chance of going back to your clinic, Anders." Merrill piped up. "It isn't as if you had much there. What could have possibly been important enough to take such a risk?"

"I imagine it was a hand embroidered pillow." Emily answered for her lover.

He shook his head. "Actually, I didn't even think of that" he answered as he took her left hand. Alistair saw the other man's thumb run across an emerald ring that adorned Emily's finger as the taller man stared into her eyes. "I went back for something much more important to me. Even though the place had been torn apart, I was lucky enough to find what I was looking for."

Emily visibly swooned when Anders kissed the stone and Alistair felt as if he might vomit. He only hoped that it didn't signify what he thought it might. She couldn't have possibly agreed to marry that bastard again…not so soon after...He noticed her glance in his direction and she quickly pulled her hand back and hid the ring under the other mage's coat before giving Anders a quick peck on the cheek.

Maker he hoped that they could finish quickly so he could go back down to the cargo hold. He practically heard the Antivan rum calling his name. He was a bit ashamed of himself for thinking that way, but he couldn't imagine making it through the rest of the day without the help of alcohol. The pain was too fresh and too much to deal with. His heart was hurting so badly and he just wanted the aching to stop. If Emily really had agreed to marry Anders, then all hope truly was lost, if there was ever any to begin with. He wondered if she planned to tell him before they went through with their plans or if she was simply going to spring it on him once the deed was done.

The prince mindlessly took in the people around him. They were going on about something, but his brain was unable to process their words enough to discern what they were discussing. He imagined it was more planning, but his mind was a thousand miles away and he simply didn't care anymore. As usual, he would follow whatever orders were given to him. When they were traveling through Ferelden, Emily actually allowed him to lead for the most part. She would give him her opinion and he always took it into consideration, but if they disagreed she let him have final say. No one had ever done that for him before and by the time they returned to Jader, he actually had confidence in his ability to rule a country. He would have never believed in a hundred ages that he was capable of being an effective king before Emily came along. She saw something in him that nobody else had ever bothered to look for. She believed in him when no one else in the world did. Now that she was with Anders, Alistair was sure that was all going to change. Everyone with them other than Anion and Nadia were friends of hers. She was their leader and he imagined they would want her to continue in that role.

_It was nice while it lasted _the prince thought. He supposed that his drinking didn't exactly inspire confidence, but the reality of losing the woman he loved was more than he could deal with right then. Isabela had talked him out of trying to kill himself with spirits, but it didn't mean that he was ready to give them up completely, at least not yet. Being numb was preferable and as long as they were stuck on the ship, he didn't see any harm in it.

When the crowd around him began to disperse, Alistair realized that the meeting was over. He had no clue what the plan actually was. He knew that they were going to Cumberland and then Kirkwall and at some point after that they were going to find Zevran. Beyond that, he didn't have the faintest idea what was going to happen.

He turned his back to the ship, leaned over the railing and stared out at the ocean. Everything in his life was spinning out of control and he was powerless to stop it. The one thing that really mattered in his life was gone only to be replaced by a duty that he never wanted and wasn't sure he was capable of doing on his own.

The prince peered up at the sky with pleading hazel eyes. _If you truly exist, _he prayed _help me. I will fall to my knees if it is required, but please…please help me. The Chantry teaches that you are gone and do not listen to the prayers of men, but if there is any mercy in you whatsoever, you will hear me. I can't do this by myself. If anyone knows the truth of that, you do. Just give me some sort of sign…a ray of hope in the darkness that has overshadowed me for my entire life. _

Alistair held his breath for a few moments waiting for something…anything, but it never came. His broad shoulders sagged as he turned to head to the hatch leading below deck. He knew it had been a long shot, but he hoped for once that the Maker would allow him to have something good in his life that he could hold on to. Dejected and with a complete loss in any faith he ever held, he descended the ladder that would lead him to the one bit of relief he knew he could count on.

* * *

After their plans had all been made, Fenris stood at his place against the mast watching Alistair for a while. As jealous of the prince as he had been before, he now felt only sympathy for the man. He knew that Alistair had to have noticed the bit about the ring because Anders made it so obvious. What the elf didn't understand was why Hawke would agree to such a thing. That fit of blinding rage that the blonde mage had shown toward Alistair should have told her that trusting Anders was a mistake, but then again, Hawke had always turned a blind eye to Anders' idiosyncrasies.

The warrior sighed quietly as he gingerly walked away, trying not to alert Alistair to his presence. The other man obviously needed some time to himself and Fenris didn't want to interrupt that. Besides, he had his own problems to deal with. Nadia's kiss had left him completely dumbfounded. In one instant she treated him as if he she despised him and in the next she had her lips pressed soundly against his before walking away. During their meeting with the others, she refused to even glance in his direction and when it was done she ignored his attempts to try to speak to her. He didn't really hold too much faith in the Maker, but he wondered if her behavior was some sort of punishment for what he had done to Hawke all of those years ago.

He began searching for the Wilder woman below decks and finally found her in the galley speaking to Merrill which made him decide quickly to just leave her be. Other than Anders, of all the people Fenris tried to avoid, the Dalish girl was at the top of his list. Everything about that woman irritated him to his very core. She was a nonsensical, bubble-headed nuisance that he never found a bit of use for and, like most mages, she was a danger to everyone around her. Hawke certainly did like to keep strange and perilous company, although he supposed that most people would count him among that number.

He found a dark, quiet corner to occupy so he could gather his thoughts without being disturbed. Fenris was really beginning to hate that stinking ship. He was accustomed to solitude and being in such close quarters didn't really afford him any of that. The only time he hadn't minded being around others so much was when he and Hawke traveled alone through the Vinmarks for all those months. Even before he became ill, her presence was always more of a comfort than a bother. He enjoyed her company and they became very close during that time which made him wonder what would have happened if he had told her how he felt about her then. Where would they be now? A large part of him still loved her as he always had, but he knew they were far beyond reconciliation. He had given it a lot of thought over the past two months and realized that he was really no better for her than Anders had been. In his heart, he knew that Alistair was her best chance for happiness and a life beyond all of the madness the rest of her friends brought with them. There had to be a way for her and the prince to work things out and it would have been a hell of a lot easier if the abomination hadn't resurfaced.

As if by divine intervention, the elf spotted Alistair walking past, headed toward the cargo hold and he quickly made a decision. Somehow, he had to convince the prince to find his backbone and fight for the woman that he loved the way Fenris was never able to. He slowly stood and waited for the door to the storage compartment to close before he made his way over to it. When he turned the handle and pushed against the wood, the hinges creaked loudly causing Alistair to look up from his rummaging through a large crate that was nearby. When the prince turned, Fenris noticed the other man was brandishing a full bottle of rum and a bleak expression.

"Oh, hey Fenris" he mumbled. "What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to talk to you" the warrior replied a bit tensely "…about Hawke."

Alistair plopped onto the floor, uncorked the bottle in his hand and gulped down a healthy dose of the clear liquid inside. His face took on a sad frown. "I have nothing to say on that subject."

"I don't remember saying that I needed for you to speak at all," Fenris retorted before taking a long look around the room "but I would appreciate it if you could point me to the Aggregio. Isabela said that there was a full case of it somewhere down here."

The prince pointed to a large open wooden box near the far corner. "It's over there, but it's hardly full anymore. I put a pretty good dent in it last night."

The elf nodded before silently going to find his favorite vice. When he pulled out a bottle, he stared at the label for a few minutes remembering when he was where Alistair was at that very moment. When he found out that Anders had moved into Hawke's estate, he spent many nights afterward drowning his sorrows in a gift of Tevinter wine that Isabela had acquired for him for that very occasion. For those first few weeks, nothing was more important or occupied his thoughts more than his loss of the only thing in the world that mattered to him.

He made his way back to Alistair and sat down next to the other man before opening his own bottle. He took a long drink and sighed heavily. "I know how you feel…about the two of them being together I mean. I've been exactly where you are right now and I realize how difficult this is. I was angry…angry with her, angry with Anders for taking advantage of the situation, but most of all angry with myself for being such a fool. I did just what you are doing…I drank myself into a near coma in order to escape the pain."

The prince, who was obviously beginning to feel the effects of the bottle of rum he had just finished off, peered at the elf with squinted eyes. "You know, Fenris…you never struck me as the sort of man that would ever discuss his feelings with anyone" he observed with a drunken slur. "Why are you telling me this?"

The warrior harrumphed with an ever-so-subtle smile. "You are correct. I never talk of such things. That is how I lost Hawke in the first place. I was too stubborn and too much of a coward to reveal how I really felt…to apologize to her for my transgressions. Even though that ship has sailed, I still care for her both as a friend…and more. But all I want now is for her to be happy." He turned and stared Alistair right in the eyes. "I could never give to her her heart's desire, but I honestly think you could. She is an amazing woman and she deserves no less."

The other man swallowed hard. "You're right, she is amazing…but I'm not the man who can make her happy. She has Anders for that."

Fenris shook his head. "No, mal amica. Anders will never be able to live up to the things Hawke needs. I do not doubt that he loves her, but he is selfish and he will never be rid of the spirit that resides within him. His life has always followed the same pattern and he _will _hurt her again. I have no doubt about that."

"Isabela said almost the exact same thing" the prince mused.

"And I am certain if you asked Merrill if you can get her to stop babbling long enough or Varric when we finally catch up to him, they will tell you the same thing. Anders is incapable of putting Hawke first in his life. We have all seen the suffering she has endured from having a relationship with him."

"What about you, Fenris?" Alistair queried. "I know that you love her, maybe…"

"As I said before" interrupted the elf "that ship has long since sailed. She does not love me in that manner. Not only that…but I am not much better for her than Anders is. She is a mage and my mistrust of magic will never allow me to love her the way I should. I have always tried to look past her gift as if it were a flaw. She needs someone who will love that part of her as well because in the end, it defines who she is. I am not that man."

Alistair grinned wistfully. "Other than the fact that it is what is keeping us apart, I love that she is a mage. I find myself in awe of her abilities and her humility in regards to them. They are part of what makes her so fascinating and wonderful."

"The fact that she is a mage is not what's keeping you apart, my friend." Fenris said with a waggle of his head. "The only thing that is keeping you from each other is the two of you. You heard what Merrill said, the Chantry is practically non-existent these days and even if it were still in full power, isn't it worth her love to fight the Maker himself? You will be the ruler of your own kingdom, why let tradition stand in your way and dictate to you what is right for you or your countrymen?"

The future king's hazel eyes grew wide. "I was always under the impression that you agreed with the Chantry about mages. Why the change of heart?"

"For the most part I do, but not where Hawke is concerned" the warrior replied. "She is unlike any other mage I have met. You may step on a few toes and you may have to do a bit of smoothing over to convince your people of her loyalties, but I think you will agree that she is worth the trouble."

Fenris took another drink from the bottle in his hand in silence allowing his words to sink in. He wasn't sure that he was able to convince Alistair that he was right, but it least it would give the prince something to ponder and maybe allow him to find some hope in a seemingly hopeless situation.

The other man looked down at the empty bottle in his hand before placing it upon the boards between his legs and spinning it a few times. "Thank you" he finally whispered. "I am tired of being the man I have been for the past seven years…hell, for my entire life. I have always allowed everyone else to dictate my future and when I did have freedom from that, I wasted my time wallowing in self-pity and drunkenness."

"It is an easy place to get lost in" Fenris concurred in a low voice.

Alistair picked up the liquor container from the floor and threw it against the wall where it smashed into dozens of smaller pieces. "I think it's time that I finally found myself. I'm through with swimming in rum and wine. I no longer want to be the joke that everyone thinks that I am. I am a prince and soon to be a king. It's time I started acting like it."

"And what of Hawke?" questioned the elf.

"Hopefully she will see me for the man I want to be, that I am determined to become. Either way, I intend to fight tooth and nail to win her back."

Fenris clapped his hand on the other man's shoulder and used it to help him maintain his balance as he stood. "It is your choice, but I do not think that will be necessary where Anders is concerned. Hawke is an intelligent woman, mal amica, but sometimes she lets reason cloud her better judgment. If she loves you as I think she does, she will come around. Just give her a little time to work things out and let Anders hang himself with his own rope."

With an acknowledging nod from Alistair, the warrior took his leave. Other than Hawke, he had never allowed himself to open up like that to anyone before. Even though he considered Varric a friend, there was rarely more than good natured banter and ribbing between himself and the dwarf. Right then was when Fenris realized he had made the right decision regarding Hawke and the prince. Alistair was a good man and he would be good to her.

When he reached his hiding place in the corner of the crew quarters however, all thoughts of Hawke and the prince left his mind and were replaced by the cobalt eyes of the woman who was waiting there for him to return.


	48. Chapter 48

Nadia had spotted Fenris standing in the doorway of the galley as Merrill was going on about something or another, but he quickly left the room without a word when he saw the the other elf. The Wilder woman completely understood the sentiment and wished the warrior had said something to pull her away. Merrill was likeable enough for some, Nadia supposed, but she herself found the Dalish girl's babbling nearly intolerable.

She had gone into the galley to procure some food since she had skipped both the morning and afternoon meals when Merrill caught up to her. The elf told her that she had come into the scullery in order to find some ingredients for a potion she was working on, but she went off on a tangent about what Nadia could only guess. Almost as soon as the Dalish girl began speaking, the barbarian woman tuned her out and just nodded occasionally to make Merrill believe she was paying attention. She wasn't sure it mattered either way because the girl just continued chattering on like a mockingbird.

Several minutes after Fenris disappeared, Nadia finally made an excuse about needing to see Anion so she could get away and quickly slipped out the door hoping to find a hiding place for when Merrill emerged from the kitchen. Her stomach was rumbling so loudly when she found the darkest corner of the crew quarters that she just knew the noise was going to give her away. Luckily, the elf had crossed the path of the bosun and was too preoccupied with talking his ear off as she passed by to notice Nadia.

Once the Dalish girl was back on the main deck, the Wilder woman allowed herself to breathe a heavy sigh of relief. It was only then that she took notice of the fact that she was occupying Fenris's usual hiding spot. She looked to the door of the galley for a moment contemplating on whether she should chance going back in there to find something to eat, but she decided to stay put because she didn't want to risk running into Merrill again.

Just where was Fenris anyway? She almost felt bad for ignoring him the way she had on the top deck, but he needed to know what he did was not going to be ignored. She put her fingertips to her lips and smiled the first genuine smile she had allowed to cross her face since before her captivity. The elf's lips were soft and felt good against hers, but he had threatened her and she had sworn to the eidola that she would never allow any man to do that again and live to tell the tale. If any other man had done what Fenris did, they would have been dead by then, but she decided to allow him one chance to make up for it. She hoped that he understood her behavior. The slaps across his face were a warning, but the kiss was to tell him that she would forgive him eventually if he behaved himself. That was the way things were done among her people anyway. She wasn't sure what an elven woman would do in that same situation. The only female elf she knew was Merrill and she wasn't about to ask her opinion.

It wasn't as if she would have put much stock in elven behavior anyhow, she reasoned to herself. If Fenris was interested in pursuing anything more than a friendship with her, he would have to learn to adapt to her way of doing things. She was a stubborn woman and she would accept no less. She had come to care for him a great deal, but she would just have to move on if he wasn't willing to accept her the way she was.

Nadia leaned her head back and allowed it to rest in the corner, shutting her eyes to the world around her. She drifted off into a dreamless sleep for a time until she heard footsteps approaching her directly. She opened her lids to see a distracted Fenris headed toward her and when he finally spotted her, he stopped in his tracks and just stared at her with his deep green eyes.

"Avanna" he finally said after several minutes.

"Dia duit" she answered softly in kind as she rose to her feet.

Once again, silence fell between them as their eyes remained locked together.

"I saw you in the galley" she observed after what seemed like ages. "Was there something you wished to speak to me about?"

"Y…yes" he stammered before clearing his throat uneasily. "I just wanted to apologize once again for what happened earlier. I suppose I lost my temper the way I did because your words were more close to the truth than what I was comfortable with hearing."

"Aye" nodded the Wilder woman. "I was already aware of that fact."

Fenris pursed his lips in frustration as he seemed to search for the right words to say. After a few more awkward moments he shrugged. "I suppose that is all I wanted to say."

Nadia walked toward him a few steps. "Are you sure, mo chara?" she asked quietly as she stopped in front of him, close enough to feel the heat of his breath upon her skin.

He tilted his head to the side a bit. "You have called me that before. What does it mean?"

"It means 'my friend' in the old language." she replied taking another tiny step toward him until her chest was pressed into his.

"In Tevinter we say, 'mal amica'" he told her softly.

The Wilder woman snickered a bit. "I have heard you call Hawke that...I always thought that it was a term of endearment" she confessed.

Fenris's breathing had become shallow, he smiled. "No…a Tevene term of endearment would be 'mal cornum'" he uttered in a low voice, dragging out his final two words as his lips moved closer to hers.

"And what does that mean?" she breathed as she gazed even deeper into his green orbs.

"It means..." he whispered as he took her hand and placed it on the left side of his chest "my heart."

Nadia managed a small gasp before Fenris closed the gap between their lips and began kissing her tenderly. She felt his fingers in her auburn hair as he drew her in closer to his lithe body. All of her cares and the troubles of the world melted away in that instant as she relaxed under the touch of his hand and the feel of his muscular arm which had encircled her waist. Never before had she been kissed like that and she felt as if she were falling from a very high place. The smell of his cologne and the feel of the cool hard leather of his armor against her bare flesh sent her head spinning. As their lips moved together, she wanted nothing more than to remain that way for all of eternity.

When she finally gathered her senses enough to pull her mouth away from his, her knees nearly buckled beneath her. He smiled and tucked her hair behind her ears. "That was what I had hoped our first kiss would be like…if you ever were to allow me to kiss you that is."

She chuckled and bit her bottom lip. "If you want to kiss me like that, I would welcome it anytime you wish, daor amhain."

"And what does that mean?" he asked as he pulled her closer once again.

Nadia playfully scraped her teeth along his lower lip. "Perhaps I will tell you one day soon, but for now, it is simply enough for you to know that it was said with a great deal of affection." She then softly kissed his cheek and turned from him to seek out the meal she had neglected to acquire earlier. Before she reached the galley door she looked over her shoulder and simply told him, "I am hungry." After a few moments of stillness, she arched a brow. "Well…are you coming or not? Or do you intend for me to waste away waiting for you to join me?"

* * *

Anion sat midship against the portside rail going completely unnoticed for the most part. Occasionally, a passing member of the crew would glance in his direction, but no one spoke. He had once again immersed himself in his father's manifesto, trying to discern the man's true thoughts from the rantings of the Fade spirit that dwelled inside. Most of the time it was easy to tell them apart because of the way the words were written. When Justice took over, the scrawl tended to be more erratic and harder to read. There were a few passages, however, that were a bit harder to figure out and Anion guessed that it was more than likely a transitional phase between Anders' own words and Justice's anger.

No matter how hard he tried though, he just couldn't make himself concentrate. That morning had been the best he had ever remembered. He and his father had spent several hours over breakfast just talking. Anion had learned so much about Anders' past that was not written in his journals. The older man seemed to enjoy relating the tales of his daring escapes from the Tower of Magi as well as his innate ability to woo any woman of his choosing. The stories about his time in Amaranthine were Anion's favorites, though. He also enjoyed hearing about how his father and mother met.

It seemed that Raina was a roguish young elf who helped Anders escape the templars several times on that particular trip to Denerim. In fact, with his mother's help, Anion's father was able to keep the Order at bay for nearly three months. Although the young woman never knew exactly what had happened to Anders when he didn't return to her, their son discovered that he was finally captured after purchasing an amulet he aimed to give to Raina as a gift. His method of acquiring the funds for the present was what led to his apprehension. The young man had stolen the purse of a noble who was a very large contributor to the renovation fund of the city's Chantry. The benefactor recognized the thief as an apostate and trailed him to the Wonders of Thedas. When he was seized on the front step of the shop, Anders asked that the object of his affections be given his apologies for such an untimely departure, but the templars refused to oblige his request and took the amulet

What happened between the younger healer's parents was the reason the older mage gave for never allowing his emotions to get the better of him again. Anders said that he found that it was easier to be the love them and leave them type because there was less pain involved and it always worked well until he met Hawke. She had been the exception to his unbreakable rule and she was the one woman that his heart couldn't deny, no matter how much he wanted it to.

"I only hope that someday, you will find someone as wonderful as Emily to stand by your side." Anders told him. "She is the type of woman that most men only dream about, and I was lucky enough to win her heart. I say that I am lucky because nothing I have ever done in my life has been good enough to deserve her love."

When Anders informed Anion of his upcoming marriage to the other mage, he couldn't have been happier for his father, although he felt a slight pang of guilt about what that would do to Alistair. The younger healer knew that the prince and Hawke had become very close and it was easy to see that the future king was head over heels in love with the green-eyed mage. Anion liked Alistair and thought of him as a friend. All he really knew for sure was that he didn't want to get in the middle of all of that. He hoped that Alistair had enough foresight not to ask him to get involved because no matter how much he liked the man, Anion would have to choose his father's side.

The one thing that the two mages hadn't discussed that morning was Justice. Anders talked about him only when it concerned things that happened in Amaranthine before his possession. Even though Anion had a lot of questions about it, he decided it best not to broach the subject and let his father discuss it only when he was ready. He shivered slightly at the memory of seeing his sire being taken over by the spirit earlier. Although he had both read about Justice in Anders' journals and heard about him from his traveling companions, nothing prepared Anion for actually seeing his father lose control of himself firsthand. It was almost as if Justice was the physical manifestation of the older man's anger and it was a terrifying sight to behold.

It really didn't matter to Anion that much, however. Most people seemed to see Anders as an abomination and judge him for that, but his son saw it as only a small part of who is father was. Either way, the Creators had fulfilled a lifelong wish and he was grateful to them for it. For the first time since his mother's passing, Hawke had made him feel like he was part of a family again, and finally getting the chance to meet his father, and subsequently being so readily accepted by him, made the young healer feel more complete than he ever had in his life. No matter what this war or the final battle brought with it, Anion would always have this time to keep close in his memories and in his heart.

* * *

Once she was away from the others and back in the captain's quarters, Emily began to really question her decision about Anders. She had tried to make herself believe that Justice was no longer as volatile as before, but his display of rage against Alistair proved that it had just been wishful thinking on her part. The spirit was still there and as dangerous as ever. She felt she was right when she said that the others provoked that behavior, and Fenris really should have known better, but it did make her wonder about Anders' promises to her. As she sat down on the bed and her lover began kissing her neck from behind, her conversation with Isabela began to resurface.

"Anders?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, love?" he responded as he began unbuckling the strap at the nape of her neck.

"I know that I already accepted your proposal," she began timidly "but there are a few questions that I feel I must have answers to before I actually become your wife."

"Oh?" he queried distractedly as he untied the ribbon that held her hair. Once it was loose, he gathered it in his hand and moved it over her right shoulder so he could cover the left side of her neck with his mouth. He began sucking softly at the flesh just beneath her ear which caused a small moan of pleasure to escape Emily's throat. His lips moved to her lobe and he slowly blew warm air into her ear canal.

"I'll tell you what," he breathed "I will answer any question you have…" He turned her face and kissed across her cheek before his mouth met hers. He gently sucked on her lower lip for just a moment before giving her a crooked, wanton grin. "After I make love to you" he finished before moving around to her front and nestling his hips between her legs. When he used the weight of his body to push her back onto the bed and kissed her passionately, everything but her need for him was gone and she had completely forgotten any questions she might have had.

Where their lovemaking had been tender since he boarded, it was now more passionate and animalistic as they both reveled in the feel of their bodies grinding against each other in pure ecstasy. When it was over and they were both lying on their backs, completely spent, Anders leaned over and softly kissed Emily on the forehead.

"I know I've said it before…but Maker, I've missed you, Em" he panted. After a few more minutes of silence so they could both catch their breath, he rolled over and rested his hips between her thighs again. He balanced most of his weight on his muscular forearms which were under her shoulders and lightly ran his fingers through her dark-brown hair. "Now if memory serves correctly," he smirked "I believe you had something to ask me."

Emily stared into his warm amber eyes for a long moment before furrowing her brow. She smoothed his loose bangs away from his face and tucked them behind his ears as she searched for the right way to phrase her first question.

"It must be pretty bad with the look you're giving me" he chuckled before lightly kissing her forehead. His face grew serious. "Come on, love. You can ask me anything and I swear I'll answer truthfully. I don't want there to be anymore secrets between us. While I was searching for you after Kirkwall, I swore to myself that I would never keep anything from you again. What do you want to know?"

"Well," she began somewhat hesitantly "for starters…I suppose I would like to know your real name... I mean, it would be nice to know what my surname is to be and it may be safer for us to use those names now anyway."

He sighed and dipped his head down, causing his unbound hair to tickle her cheeks and nose. When he finally looked her in the eyes again, he gave her a small sad smile. "I figured that would be your first question" he proclaimed before sighing once more "My name is Haydn…Haydn Steiber." Emily arched a brow. "And don't laugh" he added, his face pink with embarrassment "it's not my fault. There's a reason why I don't use that name anymore and it actually has little to do with my hatred of the man who sired me."

"And what of your parents?" she pressed. "What were their names?"

"My mother's name was Crescentia." he told her with another melancholy smile.

"That's beautiful." Emily stated.

"The name fit her. She was a beautiful woman" Anders agreed allowing his lips to brush against Emily's for a moment "Not unlike yourself, my dear. You've always reminded me a lot of her. Strong, kind, intelligent…forgiving."

"And your father?" she pried. "What was his name?"

"I don't see how it makes any difference, Em" the older mage said with annoyance in his voice. "He was a piece of shit bastard that drove my mother into an early grave. Neither his life nor his name deserve any acknowledgement as far as I am concerned." When a flash of blue light crossed Anders' eyes before he finished his last sentence, Emily instinctively pulled back as much as she could. When the blonde man saw her reaction, his expression softened. "I'm sorry, love. Talking about that son of a bitch still makes me angry. I didn't mean to scare you." He caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. "Why do you want to know about my family anyway?"

"It's really not important, I guess" she shrugged with a morose frown. "I was simply curious."

He shook his head. "No…I promised you that I would answer any question you asked me…His name was Voss." He grimaced as soon as the sound of his father's name left his lips. "Just please tell me that you don't expect to name our firstborn son after that lowlife bastard or anything."

"Don't be an idiot, sweetheart" Emily told him which earned her a pinch on the behind before Anders pressed his forehead against hers with a soft snicker. She began to lightly rub the long stubble near his chin with her fingertips. "If I didn't know any better, Mr. Steiber, I would say that you are growing a beard."

He exhaled with displeasure. "Please don't call me that" he moaned. "I mean…I suppose it will work for the purpose of the wedding ceremony, but I refuse to use that name outside of that particular circumstance…and yes…I am growing a beard. I thought it might help."

"What do you mean?" she queried. "Why would that help anything?"

"Because it's better than walking into a Chantry with my normal face. Hopefully this way the priestess who marries us won't recognize me" he explained just before he began to run his fingers through her long hair again. "Which reminds me…you should probably do something to disguise your appearance as well."

"I don't think I would look as good as you will with a beard, Anders" she quipped "but I suppose I could try if that's what you really want."

He laughed. "If I wanted to be with a hairy man, Em, I would have taken Varric away from Bianca years ago."

"I hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I'm pretty sure that Varric isn't gay. Otherwise, he would have named his crossbow Bruce."

The blonde man lifted himself up a bit and rubbed his chin between his thumb and index finger. "But I think I'm pretty enough that I could have turned him."

She stared at him quizzically for a few seconds before they both burst into laughter. Anders laughed so hard that he had to roll back over onto his back so he could breathe and Emily's amusement was so great that her sides were aching by the time she wiped the jovial tears from her eyes. She spun her head to observe her mate who was grinning from ear to ear while he stared at her lovingly. "Maker's breath, you're beautiful Emily. It's been far too long since we laughed like that."

His words brought back memories of happier times they spent together when they lived in the Amell estate…after she was named Champion…when she replaced the plight of the Circle mages as Anders' number one priority…before she lost the baby and her world began spinning out of control again…before he left her alone, lied to her and betrayed her. Her face must have reflected her new-found sadness because he took her left hand and kissed the small emerald of her engagement ring.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked.

The brunette woman shook her head and forced her best smile. "It's nothing" she lied before changing the subject. "So, if you don't want me to grow a beard, just what do you have in mind?"

He gathered a large strand of her thick mane and bit his bottom lip. "I hate to say it, but I think you should probably cut your hair…short."

"How short?" she asked suspiciously and he gave her a worried and sympathetic frown Her long hair was always one of the things that Emily liked most about her appearance. As a child, after she came into her magic, her father made her cut it short so the townspeople in their new village would think that she was a boy. Once they moved to Lothering, she was allowed to let it grow out again and hadn't had more than an occasional trim since. She gathered her flowing tresses in her right hand and wrinkled her brows together. "How short?" she repeated.

Anders scissored his fingers over a tendril at the nape of her neck. "I think you should probably cut it to about there…and add some fringe at your brow as well."

Emily closed her eyes, swallowed hard and let out a long sigh. "Then do it" she commanded quietly as she sat upright. "Before I change my mind."

"A…Are you sure?" he questioned with hesitation. "It can wait until we get closer to Cumberland."

She shook her head, her jaw clenched with determination. "I am sure. I'm afraid if I wait I will just chicken out of it. There is a pair of scissors in Isabela's middle desk drawer."

"I don't know, Em" he continued to stall.

"Please Anders. If I am to do this, I just want to get it over and done with" the green-eyed mage insisted.

She felt Anders body shift and the bed move as he rose from it. The sound of him rummaging through the desk to find the instrument of destruction was almost torture to her ears and his footfalls walking back toward her were like listening to the executioner coming to take her to the guillotine. When Anders tugged at her arm to lead her to one of the wooden chairs next to the table in the corner, she squeezed her eyes shut even tighter. She felt his soft, warm lips graze her forehead and his fingertips run through her hair one last time before she heard a loud _snip. _Tears stung at her eyes as the weight of her dark-brown locks slid down her shoulders and onto the floor. Anders worked quickly to end the agony as soon as possible, but Emily couldn't stop the salty droplets that began spilling down her cheeks.

After what seemed like an eternity, she heard Anders take a step back before wiping the tears from beneath her eyes with his large fingers. "It's actually kind of cute." he reassured her. "I think it suits you, love." She opened her eyes and peered into the nearby looking glass. As she ran her hands down the shortened strands, Emily gave a half-hearted smile.

"I look like a boy" she chuckled bitterly before gazing up at her lover with pleading emerald eyes. "I'm not too ugly to marry now…am I?"

The tall mage helped her from her seat and gathered her into his strong arms. "Sweetheart, you are anything but ugly. I don't think you could be ugly if you tried. You are still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

"Are you sure?" she begged. "You aren't just saying that to make me feel better?"

Anders took her face in his large hands. "You take my breath away" he whispered before placing a tender kiss on her lips. After a few moments, she backed away enough to retrieve the scissors from the table and gave him an empathetic smile.

"Your turn" she declared softly


	49. Chapter 49

The future King of Ferelden paced across the planks between the starboard and portside rails in front of Isabela's cabin trying not to think about what was taking place inside. Somehow he had to get Emily away from Anders long enough to speak to her. He wanted to know if she really had agreed to marry the blonde mage and if she had, he needed to find a way to stop her from doing it. Fenris told him to give it time, to wait for Anders to screw up, but what in the hell was he going to do if she married the bastard before that happened?

"My, but that particular part of the ship is seeing a lot of wear and tear today" he heard Merrill exclaim from the starboard steps leading to the bridge.

"Oh, hi Merrill" Alistair greeted her distractedly. "I didn't see you there."

She grinned. "That's alright lethallin. Most people neglect to notice my presence unless I make it known. I suppose that's how I managed to evade the templars in Kirkwall all those years."

"I'm sure Emily had something to do with that as well" the prince pointed out.

She lifted her shoulder and let it fall. "Perhaps. I really don't know. So may I ask why you're walking back and forth like that? Are you waiting to talk to Hawke?"

He sighed. "Yes…that's the plan anyway."

"You've talked to her hundreds of times, I'm sure" the elven woman observed. "Why are you so nervous now?"

"It's complicated, Merrill" the prince replied. He was more than a little uncomfortable talking about his feelings to the Dalish girl. He knew she was a woman who was at least in her mid to late twenties, but Alistair just couldn't get past her childlike demeanor enough to have a serious conversation with her.

"Hawke's relationships usually are…" she smiled "complicated I mean. She seems to like to fix things that are broken…including people."

Alistair was taken aback by the woman's insight. Perhaps Merrill wasn't as clueless as she let on after all. "And you think that I'm broken as well?"

"I know that you drink…a lot when you are upset. I went down to the hold to get something last night and I saw you there with several empty bottles. Anders may have a spirit living inside him, but you have demons of your own, lethallin. You shouldn't expect Hawke to exorcise them for you, though. You must do that yourself."

The prince raised his brows and shook his head in amazement. "That's very good advice Merrill…very wise of you."

"I have my moments" she grinned before putting her index finger to her lips "but don't tell anyone. It's much easier to be observant when people think you are a bit dense. Besides…I wouldn't want Fenris to find out. I find annoying him dreadfully amusing."

Alistair chuckled. "Don't worry, my friend. Your secret is safe with me."

"May I give you one small piece of advice?" she asked as her expression became somber.

"I would welcome anything you have to offer." Alistair replied.

"Give Hawke a few days to work this out on her own" the elven woman urged. "If you try to come between her and Anders right now, it will only blow up in your face. They have a long history together and she must be allowed to convince herself that he is no longer who she wants to be with. The seeds of doubt have already been planted, they just need a little time to grow."

The prince nodded, taking the elf's advice to heart. "You're probably right, Merrill" he concurred. "I wasn't really sure what I wanted to say to her anyway. Maybe I need a few days to figure that out myself."

She beamed at him as she leapt down the stairway with one fell swoop. "Well in that case," she exclaimed happily as she took him by the arm. "Let's go find something to eat. I'm starving and you look like you haven't eaten in days. You have to keep up your strength if you are going to be with Hawke. She's quite…amorous you know."

Alistair laughed. "Oh yes…I'm already quite aware of that fact."

"Ooh" Merrill giggled "Can we exchange naughty stories, because I have a few about Isabela and I that will curl your hair."

And just that quickly, the elf reverted back to her usually bubbly self. "Don't ever change Merrill."

"Why would I change?" she asked curiously. "I like the way I am."

"I do too, Merrill" the prince told her with a pat on her small arm. "I do too."

* * *

Anders stared in the mirror with a frown. It was gone and he had just gotten it back to the way he really liked it, the way he kept it in Amaranthine. He sighed loudly as he ran his right palm down the back of his head. _Ugh, _he thought to himself _it looks like that templar Keran's, but a bit shorter and without the evenness._ If he was going to be completely honest with himself, it was horrendous.

"So what do you think?" Emily asked with a worried frown.

He arched a brow. "Well…" he began but stopped before he said something that would hurt her feelings. She tried, bless her heart, but apparently she was just as talented at cutting hair as she was at cooking.

"It's awful isn't it?" she pouted. Her emerald eyes began to glisten. "You hate it don't you?"

"I don't _hate _it" Anders lied before shaking his head. "Okay…yes…I hate it." He noticed that she began to chew on her bottom lip and was attempting not to cry. "But it's okay love. I'm just not accustomed to having short hair." he added quickly. "And the little straggles can be fixed."

"No they can't, not without making you almost bald" she blubbered. "It's awful. I completely screwed it up."

The blonde mage could scarcely believe his eyes. He had never seen Emily cry before the previous evening, but now she was almost sobbing over messing up his hair. It was so unlike her. She had always been a rock before and he had to wonder what changed. She was actually behaving like a…like a woman. He smiled in spite of himself. This new development was definitely something he could get used to. He hated to see her cry, but it was nice to see her show her true emotions for once instead of keeping everything all bottled up inside the way she normally did.

"Now you're laughing at me" Emily whimpered.

Anders stood and took her into his arms. "I'm not laughing at you love. I've just never seen you like this."

"This blubbering and weak, you mean" she croaked as she buried her face in his bare chest.

He cupped her chin and lifted it to meet his warm amber eyes. "This vulnerable…that's not a bad thing, Em."

"You look awful" she sighed loudly as she stroked what was left of his hair. "Perhaps I can get Isabela to straighten it enough where you won't be too ashamed to be seen in public."

The blonde mage chuckled as he played with the fringe of her newly shortened bangs. "That would be nice."

Emily pulled away from him and threw on his shirt that had been discarded to the side of the bed earlier followed by her leather breeches. "Okay, just wait here" she commanded and then kissed his cheek. "I'll be right back."

After several minutes, Emily returned with Isabela following close behind. The pirate took one look at Anders and pinched her lips between her teeth to keep her laughter at bay. Anders shot her a dirty look and she shrugged. "Sorry, sweetie" she sniggered "but that has to be the worst haircut I have ever seen. It might just be easier to shave you bald."

The blonde mages eyes narrowed. "You do and I'll slip a potion into your ale that will give you such a rash on your privates that you'll be walking around scratching them for a month."

"Please Isabela," Emily begged "isn't there anything you can do?"

The pirate circled around Anders several times before she pushed him down onto the chair that was standing at his rear. "Of course there is, sweetpea" she told the younger mage as she grabbed the scissors from the table. "I'll have him right as rain in no time."

Isabela began snipping quickly around his head and after only minutes stood back to admire her handiwork. Anders nervously turned to see his reflection hoping that the captain was more skilled than Emily with a pair of scissors. He ran his fingers through the shortened top and nodded approvingly. It wasn't bad. It reminded him of how Emily's brother, Carver, always kept his hair.

"Better?" the Rivaini inquired with a grin.

"Much" he stated "thank you, Isabela."

"You're welcome" she said before turning to his mate. "Next time you decide to cut someone's hair Hawke, just call me first. It'll be much easier that way."

"Thanks, Izzy" she mumbled with shame. "I owe you one."

"Just buy me a couple of rounds when we get to Cumberland." She circled to address Anders. "You owe me about a dozen."

Anders gave her a casual salute. "Aye, aye captain."

The pirate crossed the room and took hold of the handle of the door leading back out onto the deck. "Now, if you are both quite finished playing with Mommy's scissors, I think I'll get back to my charts." She pushed against the door and stopped. "And if I find even one scrap of hair on the floor of my cabin, I'll have you both flogged and keelhauled" she threatened before stepping back out into the sun.

When Anders returned his attention to Emily, she was just standing there staring at him with an odd expression. "What's wrong, love?" he inquired.

"You have always reminded me of my father" she confessed "but now, with your hair and growing beard, you even look a bit like him."

"I hope that's not a bad thing"

She shook her head. "No…it's not bad…just a bit…disconcerting."

He pulled her down to sit on his lap and she crossed her wrists behind his neck. "I just hope I'm not too much of a disappointment to you, love. I'm not sure I will ever be able to live up to Malcolm's legacy."

"I don't expect you to, Anders" she told him softly. "The only thing I expect from you is your love…and your promise to stay this time…even if things get hard. That's part of what marriage is about. You know, in dark times as well as good."

"My life is yours, Emily" he whispered "along with my heart and my very soul."

She smiled, seemingly satisfied with his response. Anders felt the Fade spirit rumble inside him and he kissed Emily soundly to quiet Justice's protests. He had done what the spirit had required. He had started the revolt that would eventually lead to the freedom of all mages, what more could be asked of him. Although he hadn't exactly promised that he would remain by Emily's side until his death, that was his intention and he would do everything he could to stay with her until the taint in his blood called him to the Deep Roads.

* * *

Nadia hadn't spoken a word to Fenris since they entered the galley. She had simply gathered some food onto two plates and served one to him. It was simple fare that he used to make a sandwich and they ate their meal in silence, although she did flash a flirtatious smile his way a couple of times. As he watched her under the fringe of his silver hair, he couldn't help but be in awe of her. As beautiful and amazing as he had always found Hawke, the mage's charms didn't hold a candle to Nadia's mystique. Even though the Wilder woman's features were stunning, it was the hardness to her demeanor that Fenris found absolutely irresistible. She was honest and open and didn't give a damn what anyone else thought of her. Nadia lived her life according to her own terms and the warrior admired her for it.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of the galley door opening and Merrill's chattering. Fenris rolled his eyes. The last thing he wanted at that moment was the Dalish girl interrupting his meal. He was about to stand to leave the room, when a strong hand clapped him on the shoulder.

"That looks good" Alistair proclaimed cheerfully. "I'm famished. Is there any more?"

Fenris jerked his head toward the cold box near the stove. "In there, mal amica. From what I could tell when Nadia was rummaging through it, there's plenty."

"Is there soup?" Merrill inquired hopefully. "I hope there's soup."

"Why in Thedas would you want soup?" Fenris questioned with a scowl. "It's as hot as blue blazes in here."

She shrugged, the goofy grin never leaving her face. "I like soup, no matter what the temperature is."

"I hear they make a cold tomato soup in Antiva." Alistair voiced.

The Dalish girl's face soured as she stuck out her tongue. "Oh, yuck…I like my soup hot, thank you very much."

"Well maybe I can find the ingredients to whip up a stew" offered the prince.

"Oh for the eidola's sake!" Nadia cried with frustration. She got up and stomped over to the cold box. When she opened the door and began rummaging through, the smoke from the dry ice began curling around her bare legs. After a few moments she brought out a small crock and placed it on the scrubbed wooden counter before reaching up from tiptoed feet to grab a pot from the rack. She slammed the cooking vessel down upon the heavy stove.

"There" she said angrily "there is your blasted soup and a pot to cook it in. Now will the two of you kindly shut up about it before I choke the life out of you both?"

"Someone's rather cranky." Alistair observed which caused the Wilder woman to blow an exasperated breath before returning to her sandwich.

As Merrill joyfully heated her meal, subsequently heating the entire room to everyone else's discomfort, she chattered lightheartedly with Alistair about her usual nonsense. Fenris began taking larger bites so he could hurry and leave and noticed that Nadia seemed to be doing the same. He was nearly to the last bite, when Isabela sauntered into the room.

"Something smells good." she proclaimed. "I'm starving." She then wiped a hand across her brow. "Maker's balls it's hot as hell in here."

"That is because Merrill decided that she had to have soup for some unmakerly reason." Fenris growled.

"Just don't let Armand catch you, Kitten" Isabela warned. You know how picky he can be about his kitchen. He'll skin us both alive and serve us for the next meal."

"Don't worry, emma lath" the elven woman reassured her lover. "I will clean up before he comes back to make dinner."

Merrill's answer seemed to put the other woman's fears to rest and Isabela plopped down next to Fenris at the small table in the middle of the room. "I guess since you're making it anyway, save some for me too will ya, Kitten?"

"Sure thing" the elf replied cheerfully.

Almost as soon as those words left Merrill's mouth, Anion entered through the doorway. "Oh, hello" he said with a bit of surprise. "Is there a meeting that I was not made aware of?"

Merrill giggled. "No, lethallin…it's just lunch."

He wrinkled his nose. "Why in Elvhenan is it so hot in here?"

"Merrill." Fenris and Nadia responded with annoyance at the same time.

"I'm making soup" she explained gleefully.

Her cheery demeanor was almost more than Fenris could stand. "Aren't you almost finished with that?" he groused. "Just how long does it take to heat up soup anyway?"

"It's taking a bit longer than usual because the potatoes were still a bit hard for my taste" she replied. "I like my potatoes more on the mushy side."

The warrior dropped his head into his open palm in frustration and he heard Nadia mumble something in her language that Fenris was sure was a curse. In the meantime, Alistair had busied himself making a platter filled with meats, cheeses and breads for the rest of them.

"Hey, princey" Isabela called "while you're at it, get us a round of ales. There should be a fresh keg in the larder."

As the prince bent over next to her to put the plate of food in the middle of the table, he asked "What do I look like? A serving wench?"

The captain landed a hard smack right on his backside. "You certainly have the ass for it."

"Oh you're funny" he snarked. "Just for that, you can get your own bloody ale." Isabela stuck out her bottom lip in a pout and batted her lashes, but Alistair merely shook his head in protest. "Nice try, but that won't work on me, Captain."

She smirked wantonly. "Would it help if I promised to show you my tits?"

"I'll get the ale, Isabela." Anion said as he hurried toward the pantry which caused everyone else to laugh. Even Nadia had to suppress a chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Fenris heard Hawke ask from the doorway. He turned just in time to see Anders ducking his head to enter the crowded galley. He gasped when he saw her hair. It was gone. "Why in Andraste's ass is it so hot in here?" she questioned with furrowed brows.

* * *

The sound of several mugs hitting the floor interjected before anyone could answer. Hawke looked over at Alistair who was standing next to the counter, his mouth agape, staring at her with disbelief.

"Maker's breath, Emily" he croaked "what have you done? What happened to your hair?"

The emerald-eyed mage bit her lower lip and ran her hand down what little length was left of her dark-brown mane. "Is it really that bad?" she asked warily.

The prince waggled his head. At least he had the decency and foresight to close his mouth. "No…it's just…a bit of a shock, that's all." His befuddled expression softened after a moment and he smiled before crossing the room and kissing her cheek. "It's adorable."

Anders quickly encircled her waist with his arms and pulled her back into him. He kissed the top of her head. "I think it's sexy as hell" he announced, leering at Alistair.

It was then that Merrill noticed that the blonde mage's ponytail was gone as well and his hair was much shorter than the elf had ever seen it. With his shorter locks and more scruffiness than usual, Anders almost looked like a completely different person. Merrill probably wouldn't have recognized him at first glance and she realized quickly that it was probably the point.

"So what's going on?" Hawke inquired as she placed her forearms over her Anders'.

"We were just about to have some lunch" Merrill replied. "Would you like to join us?"

"Actually," Alistair clarified with a mischievous grin "I thought that Isabela was about to give young Anion here a show."

The youngest member of their group blushed brightly. "That isn't why I volunteered to get the ale" he said in a low voice. "I was just trying to be nice."

"Damn" teased the captain "and here I thought I was going to get to remove some of my clothes. It certainly would have given some relief from this heat." She winked at Anion. "Maybe I can give you a private showing later if you want, Cupcake."

Merrill giggled as she poured her soup into two small bowls. "That could be fun…as long as you let me be involved as well. I've never taken part in a threesome before."

The Dalish girl didn't think that Anion's face could have gotten much redder, but it turned absolutely crimson at her words. It was an interesting idea and she and Isabela had actually talked about it many times. Even though it had been said in jest, Merrill had never been with a man before and she always wondered what it would be like. Anion was quite attractive and she could tell in the short amount of time that she had known him that he was as inexperienced as she was with the opposite sex. She did feel a bit sorry for the young healer, though. He was obviously embarrassed by such a proposal given to him in front of others, even if it was only a joke.

His father didn't help any when he laughed and said, "I'd take them up on it if I were you, son. A man doesn't get many opportunities like that in his life without shelling out some serious coin."

Hawke elbowed the older mage in the gut and scowled up at him. "Anders!"

"What?" he asked with a sheepish grin. "Just a little fatherly advice."

"How would you know about that anyway?" she inquired, her scowl even more pronounced.

He shrugged and then kissed her nose. "I've heard stories" he lied. "I would never do such a thing myself, of course."

"That's not what the Lay Warden told me." Isabela chimed in.

The tall man peered at her through narrowed eyes. "Thanks a lot Isabela."

"You are so very welcome" she smirked evilly. "I try to be as helpful as I can. I guess I'm just a giver."

"That's what I heard" Anders quipped. "You give to every man you meet."

"You wish" she retorted.

The mood among her companions was lighter than Merrill had seen it since rejoining them. Even Nadia seemed to be enjoying herself as she listened to the banter among her new friends. The Wilder woman was a bit of a mystery to the elf, but she seemed a bit to Fenrisy for Merrill's tastes.

After she served Isabela a bowl of the soup she had been heating Merrill sat down next to her girlfriend. She listened as the others continued their banter, leaving her bowl untouched. After nearly a half an hour, Fenris finally grimaced in her direction.

"Aren't you going to eat that?" he asked with frustration.

She shook her head with a frown. "No…it's much too hot for soup today."

"What?" he roared as he rose to his feet. "You have got to be kidding me. You are the one who made such a big deal about that damn soup and now you're saying it's too hot for it?"

Her eyes widened innocently and she nodded. "Yes…would you like it, Fenris?"

"Fasta Vass!" he cursed loudly before stomping out of the room with Nadia trailing closely behind him.

Alistair shook his head with a dumbfounded expression. "Merrill," he began patiently "if you didn't want soup, why in the Maker's name did you make such a fuss over it?"

A wide, cat-like grin spread across the elf's face. "Why…to annoy Fenris, of course."


	50. Chapter 50

The next four days were fairly uneventful as the ship sailed toward Nevarra. Fenris had calmed down by the evening on the day of the soup incident and everyone got along pretty well afterward. Emily had to scold Merrill a bit for teasing the warrior the way she did, and made the Dalish girl promise that she would behave herself, at least until they reached the next port.

Even though a few of her old companions were missing and she had a few new ones, after that day in the galley, Emily felt like there was a camaraderie among the group that had been missing since their down times at the Hanged Man. She was even pleasantly surprised by the fact that the tension between Alistair and Anders had actually eased up quite a bit.

The best part, though, was the fact that, after that first morning on the ship, the prince no longer carried the smell of alcohol on him and his eyes had once again become clear and bright. He seemed to be back to his old self…but somehow better. He had developed a new presence and confidence that befitted a ruler. It saddened her a bit, but it seemed that Alistair had gotten accustomed to the idea that she and Anders were together. She still hadn't worked up the nerve to tell him about her engagement, but decided it could wait until they made port. She wanted to speak to him about it in private, and being on the ship gave her little opportunity to do so without the fear of someone interrupting.

When the ship docked that evening, Anders was excited to find a priestess right away, but Emily convinced him that they should probably wait until the next morning. She explained that it would probably be less risky if they didn't have to wake someone in the middle of the night to perform the ceremony and he reluctantly agreed.

They hired rooms at an inn near the docks named the Wandering Raven. It wasn't the best place in the city, but Isabela told them that it wasn't the worst either. She knew the proprietor and he owed her several favors which she told him would all be settled if he kept his mouth shut about their presence. He seemed happy to oblige the captain's request and Anders paid for their stay with the coin he had acquired from Emily's estate.

Once they had all stowed their things in their temporary quarters, the companions met up for supper at two large tables that had been pushed together in a back room the tavern's owner kept for his special guests. The food was decent and the ale was superior to any other they had gotten in a while, so they spent a pleasant evening telling impossible stories and some pretty terrible jokes.

After the food was cleared away, Isabela ordered two bottles of whiskey and a glass for everyone at their table before announcing that they were going to play a drinking game. Alistair immediately bowed out of the competition, stating that he would rather watch and surprisingly, the captain didn't argue. Anders refused to play along as well because, as usual, Justice wouldn't allow it. After an hour, Emily was feeling a bit tipsy, but her slight inebriation was nothing compared to the drunkenness of the two Dalish elves. At one point, Anion announced that he had to utilize the privy and nearly fell to the floor as he tried to stand. That's when the emerald-eyed mage noticed Isabela wink at her girlfriend with a lascivious smile, which Merrill returned with an excited giggle.

"I think my son is going to get very lucky tonight." Anders whispered in Emily's ear.

It took her a few moments to realize what he was talking about, and her green eyes went wide when it finally dawned on her. "You don't really think they would do that, do you?"

He chuckled. "We _are_ talking about Isabela here, love. Was there ever any doubt?"

"Don't worry so much about it Emily." Alistair whispered in her other ear, making her jump. She hadn't noticed that the prince had moved to her other side until he spoke. "Isabela won't hurt him." His words earned a snigger from Anders.

_Men! _Emily thought. Leave it to something like that to get the two of them to actually be friendly to each other.

Anion found his way back to the table after a few more minutes and before he could take his seat, Isabela announced that she was ready to retire for the evening. She stood and took the young healer by one hand and helped Merrill up with the other which merited another giggle from the elven woman.

"Come on you two" she said with a smirk. "I think you've had enough. I'll help you up the stairs and tuck you in." When the three of them reached the doorway, she turned her head and gave Anders a saucy wink making Emily wonder if the two of them had planned the whole thing in advance. The brunette mage scowled at her fiancée and he just shrugged with an impish grin.

She rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Fenris and Nadia who had busied themselves trading lustful glances at the far end of the table. Within moments, they announced that they were retiring for the evening themselves and headed out the door, weaving a bit as they went. That left Emily alone with the two men who were sitting at her sides. Anders took one last drink of the ale that he had been nursing since dinner and kissed her on the cheek.

"It seems that the party is over" he observed. "I think that I'm going to turn in for the night as well." He glanced at Alistair warily before asking his future wife, "Are you coming, love?"

Emily still hadn't told Alistair about her plans to wed Anders and she knew that she needed to. It was only fair. "I'll be up in a few minutes, sweetheart." she said with an anxious smile.

Surprisingly, the blonde mage didn't argue with her. He simply nodded, stood and kissed her on the top of the head before walking from the room, leaving her and Alistair alone for the first time since Anders' return. She poured a shot of whiskey into her glass and threw it back before turning to the prince with sadness in her emerald eyes.

He took her hand and stood, pulling her up with him. "You don't have to say it, Emily" he told her as he brushed his fingertips across her bangs. "I already know that you are getting married tomorrow."

"Alistair…" she began, but he covered her lips with his index finger.

"_Shhh_" he whispered. "It's okay. I love you with all of my heart, but if you truly think that Anders will make you happy, then…you should marry him."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry" she murmured. "Part of me wishes that it didn't have to be like this. I do love you, Alistair…so very much, but…" Her voice trailed off as tears began streaming down her cheeks.

The prince wiped them away before pressing his forehead to hers. He softly caressed the tip of her nose with his. "I understand, my love. All I want is your happiness."

Emily's heart began crying out with a resounding _No! _at those words. No matter how much she still loved Anders, no matter how much she wanted her dream of a family to come true, she just couldn't let go of the prince who had stolen her heart and captivated her senses. Less than a year before, all she wanted was to spend the rest of her life with Anders, but Isabela's words kept ringing in her ears, filling her with doubt.

She closed her eyes to center herself. _No. Alistair and I can never be. Anders and I will marry in the morning. This is the way it has to happen. Be strong, Emily. Alistair is willing to make this sacrifice for his people and your happiness. You need to face facts and do the same._

When she opened her eyes, she met the prince's loving gaze once more and her resolve faltered a bit. He smiled. "I did want to thank you for something though."

She swallowed. "What?"

"I wanted to thank you for showing me that I can be more than what everyone else has always told me I could be. Your love and your faith in me have allowed me to become a better man and, when this war is finished…a better king. I also want to thank you for showing me that love truly does exist and that I am worthy of it. I owe you a debt that I can never repay."

Emily grinned and let out a small chuckle. "I always knew that you were more than you gave yourself credit for, Alistair. You just had to open your eyes and see it."

He nodded. "Well, thank you for opening my eyes then." She felt his thumb trace her lips. "I know that already owe you so much, but can I ask one more favor?"

"Anything" she breathed.

"After tomorrow, Anders will have you for the rest of his life…all I ask is for you to be mine…once more…Just one more night, Emily, before I let you go completely."

His thumb was replaced by his soft lips as he began kissing her tenderly. She melted into his arms and pulled him closer to her. His kiss felt like home, as if she had been away for years and returned to the place where she belonged. Nothing in the world mattered more to her at that moment than being in Alistair's arms.

He backed away and took her by the hand before silently leading her upstairs to his room. As they passed by hers, the fog that had clouded Emily's brain from Alistair's kiss lifted enough for her to remember that Anders was waiting behind the door for her to return. She hesitated for only a moment, but the prince pulled her in close and kissed her once more, convincing her to follow him the rest of the way.

Once they were in his room and he had shut the door behind them, he lifted her from the floor and carried her to the bed where he laid her down gently. She became lost in his gaze as his hazel eyes desperately searched hers.

"I love you" he whispered softly.

"I love you too, Alistair" she told him with sadness in her eyes "but I can't do this. No matter how much I want this…want you…it would be a betrayal of everything that I am."

He brushed back her fringe and smiled sadly. "I figured as much."

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "I would never ask you to do anything that would make you live with regret, my love. I understand."

With one final kiss, he rose from the bed and offered his hand to help her up. Once she found her feet, Emily kissed him on the cheek and walked back out his door, trying her best not to let him see how much it hurt her to do so.

When she returned to her room the light was already out and she sat down on the bed. Her hand brushed across the blanket, but her lover was not there as she had expected. She scanned the darkness until she noticed movement in the corner.

"Anders?" she inquired softly into the near blackness.

"I didn't think that I would see you again until morning." he answered, his voice cracking from the strain of the tears he had obviously been crying.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "I told you that I would be up in a few minutes."

The lights in the room came to life and Emily saw the blonde mage standing there, just staring at her with confused, bloodshot eyes. "I saw you, Em" he informed her. "I saw you kiss Alistair and then follow him into his room."

The dark-haired woman hung her head in shame before moving it from side to side. "I'm sorry, Anders," she whispered "but nothing happened…I couldn't go through with it."

"But you obviously considered it" he hissed. "I thought you said it was over between the two of you. Was this the first time? Or did you decide you couldn't do it tonight because it is the eve of our wedding?"

"I told you…nothing happened" she repeated quietly. "He asked…and yes, I considered it…but I didn't go through with it. Isn't that enough?"

"You love him don't you?" the other mage croaked. Emily nodded. "Why did you break it off with him, Emily? Why wasn't it going to work out between you two?"

She sighed. "Because he is going to be the king of Ferelden…and a king cannot marry a mage."

"So you talked of marriage with him?"

"Yes"

"You should have told me that" he huffed. "You made it sound as if you weren't compatible or something…like you decided that you were better off as friends. I have poured my heart and soul out to you. I have offered you everything that I am. How could you do this?"

Anger and frustration began to settle into Emily's gut. After everything he put her through, after all that he had done, what right did he have to be angry with her? She stood and rounded on him. "And how could you blow up the Chantry?" she yelled. "How could you lie to me and ask me for my help in ridding yourself of Justice when you knew all along what you really intended to do? And when I told you that I didn't want to distract Elthina for you, you emotionally blackmailed me and made me feel like shit for it."

Bright blue light flashed across Anders' eyes. "This has nothing to do with that and you know it!" he countered, his shouts matching hers. "Don't you dare try to turn this around on me! This is about you and that stupid bastard prince!"

"I screw up one sodding time, Anders and you treat me like I'm the most loathsome human being in Thedas and _nothing happened! _Yet I'm expected to just forgive and forget everything you have done to me. I even defended your ass!"

"I never cheated on you." he sneered. "I was always faithful to you."

Emily crossed the room, fists clenched to her sides before poking him in the chest. "No, you didn't cheat on me" she exclaimed with angry tears forming in her eyes. "You left me. You walked out on me the day after you asked me to marry you and didn't come home for days. Then you moved out for good without saying a word to me a few weeks later. I needed you Anders. I was mourning the loss of a child…our child and you weren't there. You just checked out and left me on my own."

The tall man's ire softened a bit. "I told you that I was sorry for that" he faltered. "Justice…"

The brunette's fury rose up anew at the sound of the spirit's name. "Oh shut up! I don't give a damn about Justice. Everything, everything is about him. I'm sick to death of that bastard interfering and it isn't all about him anyway. _You_ chose to stay away you son of a bitch! You let him influence you! You know what, Anders? You and Justice can both kiss my ass and go to sodding hell. Void take the both of you and I hope you rot together in eternity!"

Suddenly, the veins in Anders' skin began to glow blue and black smoke began to rise from his shoulders. He moved his right arm across his body and swung it hard, landing the back of his hand across Emily's left cheek. She felt the bones shatter as she hit the floor and blood began pouring from her nose. Anders' reached down and grabbed her by the throat then began squeezing.

**_Shut your mouth whore, _**a deep ethereal voice bellowed. **_We will not be talked to in that manner. You have wronged us and your usefulness is at an end._**

Just before she blacked out, Emily felt the hand around her neck release and then a pair of strong arms gathered her up and carried her to the bed.

"I am so sorry, my love." Anders sobbed. "I…I…I didn't mean to. Oh Maker...What have I done?"

She felt the warmth of his magic flow into her cheek as he repaired the damage that he had inflicted. After several minutes, when the healing was complete, she opened her eyes to see tears streaming down his cheeks as he began to stroke her hair. He looked much older than she ever remembered seeing him and the agony of regret in his amber eyes was breaking her heart.

"Emily…" he choked.

She covered his lips with the tips of her fingers. "It's okay sweetheart" she softly reassured him.

He removed her hand and shook his head. "No…it's not. I'm a danger to you."

"No, Anders" she whispered "That wasn't you. I provoked Justice. I should have known better."

The blonde mage hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head. "I saw my father hit my mother like that so many times when I was a child and I swore that I would never do such a thing. I know my promises don't mean much, but I swear to you on my very soul that I will never hurt you like that again." He took her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. "I can never be sorry enough for that and I don't expect your forgiveness, but…"

"I forgive you, Anders" she smiled sadly. "I know you would have never done that. I should have known better. The better question is…can you forgive me for what I almost did…and for not telling you the truth about Alistair in the first place?"

He pressed his forehead to hers. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Em. Nothing you could ever do could compare to the hell I've put you through."

"Then let's just move on from all of this, my love" she suggested. "Tomorrow morning, you will be my husband and we can simply put all of this to rest…okay?"

He nodded before kissing her softly and she pulled him down until his body was resting over hers. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked apprehensively.

She smiled and smoothed back his hair. "Make love to me Anders." she purred. "Tonight, more than ever…I need you."

Their lovemaking that night was the best Emily had ever known. Anders held her as if he never wanted to let go. He seemed to savor every touch, every kiss, and every loving word they spoke to each other. He told her that he loved her more times than she could count and when they had finished, he spent a long time just staring at her, as if her were trying to burn her face into his memory.

"I love you, Emily Hawke" she heard him say as she began to drift off to sleep against his bare, muscular chest. "I always have and I always will. You are the best thing that has ever happened in my life and I will do whatever it takes to make you happy and to keep you safe."


	51. Chapter 51

The next morning, Alistair awoke to the sound of knocking at his door. The sun shining through the window blinded him a bit as he began to rub the sleep from his eyes. "Come in." he called, trying to stifle a yawn. He sat up and saw Emily approaching his bed through squinted eyes.

"Good morning" he greeted and then smiled. "It's still a little early. Is it time to kiss the bride already?"

The brunette mage sat down on the bed beside him, close enough for Alistair to see the heartbreak that was written in her glistening emerald eyes. "He's gone" she mumbled sadly. "Anders is gone."

The prince sat up a bit straighter. He couldn't believe his ears. "What?"

"I woke up this morning and found this" she told him as she held out a small piece of parchment.

He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips again before reading the hastily scrawled note.

_I am sorry love. I know that I told you that I would not leave you again, but circumstances have changed. I am not sure that I can ever forgive myself for what I did to you, but I hope that my leaving in order to allow you to get on with your life will bring at least a small bit of atonement for my sin. _

_I love you so much, but I am a danger to you and everyone around me. You deserve more than I could ever give to you. You deserve to have every one of your wishes fulfilled. I had always hoped that I could be the one to do that for you, but I cannot. Thank you for always being there for me and loving me when no one else in the world did. Even though I am gone from you now, and even though I know that you will find happiness somewhere else, please remember that I have loved you with everything that I am and my heart will always belong to you and you alone. _

_Please tell Anion that I am sorry and that even though we only just met a short time ago, I love him and I am proud of him. I only wish that I could have been the father he needed, one that he didn't have to be ashamed of because of my stupid choices. _

_I said that I would do anything to make you happy and keep you safe, Em…and that includes keeping you safe from me. I hope that you find joy and fulfillment in all that life has to offer, you deserve no less._

_With all of my love,_

_Anders_

When Alistair finished reading the mage's farewell letter, he turned to Emily in time to catch her as she threw herself into his arms. Guilt was eating at his insides as he held onto her. He heard their yelling from down the hallway the previous evening, but he couldn't really make out the words and then there was a loud thump, but he figured that Emily must have slugged Anders or thrown something at him because the noise died down shortly after that. He thought to check on things, but figured that his involvement might make things worse because he was almost positive that their argument was about him. "What happened last night, Emily?"

She shook her head frantically against his chest. "He saw us kissing and then watched us come into your room" she explained. "We got into a huge fight…"

She sat back and Alistair's eyes trailed to her neck which brandished circular red marks on the sides. "Emily?" he began slowly "What did Anders mean by what he did to you?" She bit her lower lip. Rage flared up inside the prince, but he tried to keep his voice level. "That bastard hurt you didn't he?"

"It doesn't matter Alistair" the brunette replied.

"It does to me" he seethed. "He hurt you, Emily. Even if you and I aren't together…I can't just let that go."

"That wasn't Anders" she tried to explain. "It was Justice."

"I don't give a shit who he was at the time" the prince argued. "All I know is that it was that son of a bitch's hands that did it. Why are you making excuses for him?"

"Because, Anders would have never done anything like that if he was in his right mind" she sobbed. "He's not that type of man."

"Apparently he is, otherwise you wouldn't have those marks on your neck" he countered.

"Alistair, I said something that must have pissed Justice off…"

He cupped her chin and stared right into her eyes. "Don't you do that, Emily. Don' t you dare blame yourself. You did nothing to deserve him laying his hands on you like that. No woman deserves that from the man she loves."

The mage's eyes filled with fresh tears just before her face screwed up and her weeping began anew. Alistair pulled her close and hugged her tightly against his chest. He nuzzled his cheek against the top of her head and tried to calm his breathing. He wanted to tear the bastard apart, but he knew the last thing Emily needed at that moment was for him to voice his feelings any more than he already had. He took several deep breaths to calm himself as he stroked her dark hair.

_Shh, _he whispered soothingly. "It's okay…I'm here…and I'll be here as long as you need me. I'm sorry about getting angry and I'm not angry with you. I'm angry at that piece of shit…but I'm angrier with myself because I wasn't there to protect you. I just hate the thought of anyone hurting you, Emily." Alistair threw back the blanket that was covering him and pulled her down to lie beside him. He held her as tight as he could and continued stroking the back of her hair as she worked through her sorrow. He wished that he could do more for her. Seeing Emily like that was breaking his heart, but he could think of nothing to say to make her feel better, so he just continued to let her find whatever comfort she could in his embrace.

After what seemed like hours, her crying finally died down and her breathing evened announcing that she had found solace in the Fade. He joined her in slumber soon after and didn't wake up until sometime later. When he glanced at the clock on the mantel of the small fireplace, Alistair noticed that it was nearly noon. He thought it a bit strange that no one had come to wake him yet, but he really didn't care. The war could wait another day. Right then, Emily needed him. Right then, she was the only thing that mattered.

The prince felt the woman in his arms stir after a few minutes and she peered up at him with puffy emerald eyes. She grimaced. "I feel like such a fool."

"You're not a fool, sweetheart" Alistair said with an understanding smile. "Love just makes people do some really foolish things…like seeing only what you want to see and trying to tell yourself that the other person is better than they really are. You look past flaws in your relationship that everyone else can see plain as day, but you just put blinders on to them and keep pushing ahead, trying to make it work and telling yourself that the problems you have are all your fault and not theirs. If you were just more understanding or didn't say the wrong things, everything would be perfect."

"You're right" she whispered. "I guess I've done that all along with Anders."

He chuckled quietly. "I wasn't exactly talking about you…I was talking about me and Erin. I guess you and I are more alike than I thought."

She snuggled in closer to him and exhaled loudly. "I guess maybe we are. The bitch of it is…I do still love him. Things weren't always bad between us. Most of the time that we lived together, they were actually quite good…but when things began to fall apart…I suppose I should have just given up then. It's just so damned hard to let go when there is even a small hope that things can return to where they were.

"When he came back, I honestly debated on whether I should be with him, to trust him again. I reasoned that since you and I couldn't be together, and since Anders still loved me, that he and I could make it work somehow. Then, last night…all of the things that I've kept bottled up since I lost the baby just hit me like a ton of bricks. I finally let myself be angry with him instead of blaming myself for everything that went wrong and it all came out at once."

Alistair lightly rubbed his hand up and down her bicep. "Then what happened?" he asked softly.

"After Justice came out and he hit me, then tried to choke me…I actually felt guilty. I felt bad for losing my temper and yelling at him that way…The thing is…I still don't believe that Anders is to blame for what happened last night…not really. Justice took over and it was Justice that tried to kill me." Alistair sighed softly, trying to hide his annoyance, before Emily added, "that doesn't mean that I would take him back again though. I was still willing to marry him last night, but after talking this out with you and just getting the chance to really think about it…I've changed my mind. Anders is a good man, but Justice…Justice is evil and I just can't live the rest of my life in fear of the demon that resides within Anders. He made the choice to allow the spirit's possession and as much as it pains me to say it…he will have to live with the consequences of that, but I can't save him…no one can."

"For what it's worth," the prince said in a low voice "I'm sorry. I hate to see you go through this."

She sniffed and then gazed up into his eyes, her green orbs shining like polished stones. "Thank you" she breathed "for being there for me."

"I will always be here for you" he told her with a small smile as he brushed her bangs away from her eyes.

She frowned. "Until you become king, you mean."

Alistair shook his head. "No…always. It doesn't matter if I am king or not, you are a part of my life that I am not willing to give up, not anymore."

Emily's eyes were beset with confusion. "What are you trying to say, Alistair?" she asked.

He lightly caressed her cheek. "I understand that you are hurting right now, and I would be a complete low-life, opportunistic bastard to take advantage of the situation, so I won't. Just know that I am here for you…as a friend…and maybe later on, when you're ready, something more."

"Please don't say things like that" she begged. "Letting you go was probably one of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my life. Giving me false hope just to help me feel better now is only going to hurt more later when I have to give you up again. My heart can't take that, Alistair…especially not after all of this."

He cupped her chin and searched her eyes. "I did not say that to give you false hope, Emily. I love you and there is nothing in this world that is going to change that, but for now let's just leave that be. Today…I simply want to be your shelter from the storm…your confidant…and a shoulder to cry on if you need it."

She took in a deep breath and held it for a long moment before finally letting it out slowly. "Would it be okay it we just stay here for a little while longer?" she requested in a small, tired voice. "Just the two of us? Just like this?"

"I could think of nowhere else I would rather be." he replied as he squeezed his arms around her shoulders.


	52. Chapter 52

When Alistair and Emily finally emerged from his room, it was nearly four in the afternoon. The prince expected someone to be out in the hallway waiting for them, but it was empty. They walked downstairs and into the main area of the bar, but still didn't see any of their friends.

"Oy" the burly bartender spoke up. "You looking for Isabela?"

"Yes" Emily replied. "Is she here?"

He pointed his sausage-like thumb toward the back room. "In there" he barked before returning to the washing of several mugs that he had set out in front of two of them walked through the doorway and found the rest of their companions sitting around the tables laughing. Then Emily heard a familiar voice.

"So Chantry Boy says, 'My father had this armor commissioned when I took my vows as a brother.' Then, without missing a beat, Blondie replies, 'I'm just not sure I'd want the Maker seeing me shove His bride's head between my legs every morning'."

Emily's smile lit up the room. "Varric?"

A dwarf dressed in a long brown duster which was worn over a low-cut, ornate tunic and a ton of dark blonde chest hair jumped to his feet and circled quickly to greet the woman who had just spoken his name. "Hawke!" he cried, hurrying toward her. He gave her a quick hug and laughed heartily. "Damn it's good to see you girl. What in the bloody Ancestor's happened to your hair?"

"Stupidity" she scowled.

The dwarf chuckled. "Well, the good thing about hair is that it'll eventually grow back."

"Yeah," she retorted sardonically "in about five years…but maybe by then nobody will be wanting to track me down and execute me."

Varric shook his head with another chuckle. "Good luck with that, Hawke. I've known you long enough to realize that there's always someone who wants to kill you."

"Angry demon pirates at the beach?" she smirked.

"Exactly" he grinned. He then turned his attention to Alistair. "And you must be the prince of Ferelden I've heard so much about."

"Maker, I hope so" the other man quipped "or I'm wearing the wrong small clothes."

Varric let out a hearty laugh. "Hey, I like this guy already." He then squinted his eyes to get a closer look at Alistair's face. "Didn't you use to beg for drinks at the Hanged Man?"

Alistair sighed loudly. He had recognized Varric right away from Lowtown's most infamous tavern, but he had hoped that the dwarf wouldn't remember him. "That wasn't me…it was a stupid, heartbroken drunk who took residence in my body for a few years."

The dwarf nodded to let the prince know that he understood what he was trying to say before changing the subject. "So, Hawke," he said, turning to his old friend "I heard Blondie made a miraculous recovery from his death. Where is he anyway?"

The mage's green eyes flashed with a mix of fury and anguish. Her tone and the rest of her face became flat and even. "He's gone"

Isabela stood from her seat like somebody kicked her. "Gone?" she bellowed. "What in the bloody hell do you mean, he's gone?"

"He left this morning…before I woke."

"That bastard!" cried the pirate.

"But why?" inquired a confused Anion. Alistair could only imagine how the young healer was feeling from finding out that way.

Emily gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry, sweetie….I really am. He left a note. It's upstairs. I'll let you read it later if you wish."

He bobbed his head up and down and Alistair noticed the blue of his irises had deepened and he was trying to prevent shedding tears in front of the others.

"Andraste's ass Hawke" Varric suddenly exclaimed. "What happened to your neck? It looks like somebody tried to choke the life out of you."

"Drop it" she commanded calmly.

A look of comprehension dawned on the dwarf's face. "I've been telling you for years that bastard was dangerous."

"All of us have." Isabela agreed.

"I know that I have always said that." Fenris added.

Emily looked up at Alistair with her jaw clenched for a moment before quietly saying, "I'm going to the bar to get a drink. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Once she had left the room, the prince rounded on the others. "What in the bloody hell is wrong with all of you?" he demanded through gritted teeth. He pointed toward the door. "It is my understanding that Emily has been there for you all whenever you needed her and now when she's going through a shit storm you act like this? The last thing she needs right now is for her so-called friends to all tell her _I told you so._ Don't you think she feels bad enough about this? Don't you think she's already thought of all of that? She's beating herself up enough, she doesn't need your bloody help."

He took in each person in the room with an angry glare, making sure that the three who spoke up bowed their heads in shame. "What Emily needs right now is her friends to help her get her mind off of what happened. I don't care if you tell jokes or stories or come up with ideas for the upcoming battle, but any of you so much as breathes Anders' name or even elude to what happened, you will be wearing my boot print on your ass until the Maker returns."

After several moments of silence, Varric nodded with a smile. "I have to admit…I'm impressed, your highness. When the others told me that you plan to take the throne of Ferelden and then I realized who you were, I was a bit…reluctant. I mean, don't get me wrong. I would follow Hawke into the Void, but you…not so much. After that little display, I might actually consider helping you."

"Your confidence overwhelms me, Varric." Alistair snarked.

The dwarf shrugged. "What can I say, I'm pretty easily impressed…The rest of the Carta, however, won't be so easy to sway. You'll have to come up with something to convince them to back you in this battle. The templars are getting restless, especially here and in the Free Marches. They know that all-out war with the mages is coming. Several have already left the Chantry's rule and the Carta's business is booming with all of the templars needing lyrium they can no longer get from the Chantry. You gotta come up with something that's going to appeal to the guild's baser instincts…in other words, gold."

"I've been thinking about it for a few days now, and I think I have a handle on the situation" Alistair told him as he folded his arms over his broad chest. "But I appreciate the advice."

Varric held up his hands. "Your choice your highness, but these dwarves don't screw around."

The prince's eyes narrowed. "Neither do I."

* * *

Emily had ordered two shots of whiskey at the bar and felt she was ready to face her friends again. More than anything, she felt like a complete idiot. The others were right. They had been right all along. Even Anders himself tried to tell her how dangerous he was. It was just so damn difficult to think of him that way when he was such a good man in so many other aspects. And she certainly never thought that he was capable of losing control so completely to be a threat to her. Now that she knew the truth, she thanked the Maker that he left.

The night before, she had every intention of continuing with their plan because she was still in a bit of shock and she kept telling herself that it wasn't him. In the light of day, however, she was seeing things more clearly. The truth of it was, she should have never taken him back after she spared his life. The things he had done to her, what he put her through…no woman should have to put up with that. And the things that were wonderful about him and that she loved about him didn't make up for him walking out on her like he did and they certainly didn't make up for the horror that was Justice.

She had started to realize just how much all of that had changed her and during her introspection, she figured out that she really didn't like the person she had become. She used to be strong and confident, a force to be reckoned with. Everything that she had gone through with Anders in the past year had caused her to begin doubting herself and her leadership. No matter how much she loved the man, two years ago she would have never allowed him to hit her. It made no difference what his excuse was. As soon as he knocked her to the floor, she would have taught him a lesson he wouldn't soon forget, even if it ended in one of their deaths.

_I deserve more than that, dammit! _She told herself as she walked toward the doorway of the inn's backroom. _I am Emily Hawke. I defeated the Qunari by killing their Arishok in hand to hand combat. I took down a lyrium-crazed Knight Commander. I was a damn Champion. _ _I deserve to be treated like a…like a… _When she entered the room, Alistair turned and smiled at her with loving hazel eyes. "princess" she mumbled.

"What was that?" Alistair inquired.

She shook her head with a grin. "Nothing. Just thinking out loud."

"About what?"

"About how we need to get this party started if we're to have any chance to win this thing."

"That's my girl" Varric proclaimed with a smirk. "I've missed you Hawke."

"So have I, Varric" she nodded. "So have I.

* * *

When Hawke walked back into the room, Fenris noticed something he hadn't seen in nearly a year. There was a fire in her eyes that he had begun to wonder if she lost for good after Kirkwall. She had seemed so deflated and defeated since then, that he wasn't sure what to make of it. He had seen her question herself and her decisions more after the battle than he thought possible from her.

When they were traveling through the Vinmarks, he tried to get her to open up, but she scarcely said anything about it. The only thing she would say was that she knew Anders was going to attempt something stupid and she should have tried harder to stop him. Fenris could tell there was more to it than that. She blamed herself for what that bastard did and felt directly responsible for all of those people who lost their lives…especially the Circle mages.

During their travels, he saw her visibly wince whenever they heard rumors of unrest between the templars and mages. In fact, when Merrill mentioned that the Chantry was all but powerless, the expression of guilt on Hawke's face spoke volumes. From experience, Fenris knew that until the truth of the matter was seen firsthand, rumors were just speculation and the tales just got bigger as they were passed from one person to the next.

So far, he hadn't seen any evidence to say that a full-scale mage rebellion had started. According to Varric, some of the templars had broken away from the Chantry, but from what Fenris had seen with his own eyes, there couldn't have been many. Every town and village they visited which had a Chantry in it, still had templars guarding it and when they were attacked in Jader it was by Seekers and templars that said they were working for the Divine. Now that Hawke seemed to be out from under the cloud that had been looming over her for so long, maybe she would actually see the truth of things as he did.

He looked over at the dwarf standing next to her. If anyone knew what was really going on with the templars and mages it would be Varric. After all, he had just been in Orlais. Fenris hoped that their old friend could shed some light on what was happening in Thedas. If they were looking for allies in the battle to regain Ferelden's independence, they needed to know what kind of obstacles they were facing.

"So Varric" the elf ventured. "You mentioned something about an impending war with the mages. I take it that means it hasn't really started yet?"

"Yes and no, broody" the short man answered cryptically.

"Could you be more vague, dwarf?" Nadia interjected with a scowl.

Varric arched a brow. "I could, I suppose, but I get the feeling that I would end up with that dagger strapped to arm between my eyes if I was."

The Wilder woman smirked with sadistic gratification. "You are more intelligent than you appear little man."

The dwarf harrumphed before addressing Hawke while pointing his gloved thumb in Nadia's direction. "Where'd you dig that one up, Hawke? Broody at the height of his broodiness was more pleasant than her."

The brunette mage smiled and turned her gaze to the barbarian. "Nadia's alright. She just takes some getting used to."

Varric sniggered a bit and shook his head. "I'll take your word for it" he said before getting back to answering Fenris's question. "Okay, so about the mages. What happened in Kirkwall kicked up a hornets' nest. Several of the smaller Circles that were already on the brink of collapse went into full revolt in the first few months. The Knight-Commanders in those places got stupid and decided to either invoke the Right of Annulment on their own or they locked the mages down so tight that they became desperate to act.

The Seekers were sent into those places to restore order and the templars involved were reprimanded. Well, as you can imagine, those templars didn't appreciate that much and decided to break away from the Chantry to fight mages on their own. That's where the whole rigmarole started about all of the templars leaving the Chantry.

"In the meantime, about a month after Kirkwall, the mages tried to appease the Chantry by closing the College of Enchanters here in Cumberland. The last thing the College of Enchanters did was vote against mage independence before it was shut down. They said they wanted peace and offered the closing of the college as a concession to prove it. The archmage that led the vote was that Ferelden mage…what was her name? The one who helped the Hero of Ferelden…old broad."

"Wynne?" Alistair asked with a quizzical frown.

Varric smiled. "That's it."

"I wonder why she never mentioned that" the prince mused aloud.

"All I know is that most of the other mages weren't happy about it, especially the Grand Enchanter. I heard that Wynne went into hiding or died a few months ago, but nobody knows what happened. Apparently there's a friend of hers who needs her help out in the badlands and the Chantry has been searching for her."

"Let me guess, they want to execute her?" Hawke asked incredulously.

"No, the Divine requested her help with this guy. I guess Her Holiness trusts her.

"No wonder she seemed so upset in hearing the Divine won't come to Ferelden's aid" the emerald-eyed mage observed. "So why didn't she mention she had friends in such high places?"

Alistair shifted his weight from his right foot to his left. "Wynne likes to keep things to herself and only reveals things when she thinks it's necessary."

The dwarf cleared his throat loudly. "As I was saying," he took in the others for a moment letting them know he wasn't finished speaking. Once he was satisfied that he had everyone's attention again, he continued. "It's a mess in Orlais right now. On top of the looming trouble with the mages and rogue templars, that bastard Gaspard is threatening to take Empress Celene's throne again and the beginnings of a civil war are brewing all over the country. I don't think the Divine is refusing to help Ferelden because she doesn't care. I think her hands are just tied up with other things."

His gaze turned to Hawke. "As you know, I was captured by the Seekers for questioning and it's the damnedest thing, Hawke. They don't want to capture and execute you. They are looking for you because they are hoping that you'll help stop this thing with the mages. With your influence, they're hoping you can talk the mages into backing down. From what I was told, Her Holiness doesn't want to lock the gifted down, she wants them to have more freedoms. She respects them and agrees that they have not been treated fairly. She's trying to find a better solution."

Fenris was just as surprised as the rest of them to hear Varric's news. Hawke arched her brow with doubt. "The Seeker that attacked us in Jader didn't seem all that interested in hearing my opinion. In fact, I wouldn't have put it past him to have killed me on the way and then covered it up by saying that he was defending himself. Where did you get the idea that the Divine wants to do anything but execute me?"

"That Seeker, Cassandra Pentaghast, told me that herself."

"And how do you know she wasn't just telling you that to lure me into a trap?"

"You should know better than anyone that I'm a pretty good judge of bullshit because I sling so much of it around myself. She wasn't bullshitting. I'm not sure that woman is capable of it. What she told me was also confirmed by that Sister Nightingale we met back in Kirkwall."

"You met Leliana there too?"

"Leliana?" Alistair queried with creased brows. "You mean _my _fried,Leliana?"

"Yes," the brunette confirmed with a nod. "She used that name as a cover when she was in Kirkwall a few weeks before the explosion."

"Then maybe she would be willing to help us after all" the prince suggested.

Hawke shook her head. "No. Even if I thought she would be willing, we don't have time to go to Orlais to find her. Not only that, but after what happened in Jader, I really don't trust the Seekers to play nice with me."

"I guess I can't blame you for that Hawke." Varric admitted. "From what the sister told me, the Seekers aren't exactly of one mind at the present. Even the Lord Seeker is at odds with the Divine right now. Just like the rogue templars, there are many of the watchers who think that the Circle mages need to be kept under closer supervision."

The mage heaved a long sigh. "Well, there's nothing I can do about it right now. Right now, saving my homeland from the tyranny of the Imperials is what's most important. If the Divine is still interested in my help when this is over, I will go to Orlais and see what I can do."

Alistair gave her a small nod and a grateful smile. "Thank you...for staying I mean." She returned his gesture before he spoke again. "While you were away, Varric told me that we got here just in time. It seems that the Carta are having a guild meeting outside the city this afternoon…I think we need to crash it."

Varric held up his hands. "Whoa there, your highness. Are you sure that's such a good idea? I thought that maybe we should start small. You know…talk to a couple of the less…cranky members and feel things out first. If you disrupt that meeting, they'll know I led you there. Not only that, but everybody's a bit leery of mages right now and Hawke is the second most wanted mage in Thedas. I gotta tell you, your majesty, Bianca's going to be awfully upset if her ownership gets transferred because you got me killed."

"Actually it's because of Emily's infamy that I think we can pull this off." The prince flashed an easy grin and clapped a hand to the dwarf's shoulder. "Don't worry so much, Varric. I've got it covered and it's a good plan. What could possibly go wrong?"

A perturbed expression mired Varric's features as he waggled his head. He glanced at Hawke for a moment before returning his attention to Alistair. "Damn. If you two weren't made for each other, I'll be the son of a hunchbacked nug herder."

Hawke gave the dwarf a warning glare. "I saw that little glimmer in your eye, Varric. Don't go getting any ideas of making up tales about me and Alistair."

He grinned. "You have to admit, it would make for one hell of a story. The former templar and future King of Ferelden is fighting to win his throne back from the vile Tevinters. And while preparing for the battle, he falls in love with the most wanted woman in all of Thedas who just happens to be an apostate. Come on Hawke…it could become my most epic masterpiece of tales."

She exhaled with exasperation. "We'll talk about it later, Varric. For now, let's just focus on dealing with the Carta, huh?"

"Sure, Hawke. Whatever you say" the dwarf conceded distractedly with a mischievous smile, making it obvious to everyone in the room that he was already making up the story of the _Prince and the Apostate_ in his head.


	53. Chapter 53

Loud, hurried footsteps echoed across the marble floor of the palace's throne room. The queen was up in arms once again, no doubt about something completely trivial. She had become more of a nuisance in the past several months than she was worth. Morrigan felt that the woman's usefulness had long since come to an end, but Corypheus had plans that he refused to reveal to the witch.

When Anora reached the steps that led up to the throne, Morrigan noticed that she was as pale as new fallen snow. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of the queen's face and she panted heavily, trying to catch her breath. The witch casually ran her fingers through the black hair of the little boy who sat upon her lap.

"Well," said Morrigan with a disdainful expression "I do not have all day. What is it this time?"

The Queen of Ferelden gave a polite bow of her head, but her grey eyes held anxiety and fear. "Milady, I have dire news."

The witch rolled her eyes. She was growing tired of Anora's panic attacks over each minor piece of gossip being spread by every fishwife in Denerim. "Very well. I suppose if you absolutely must bother me…but be quick about it. I do not have the time nor patience to listen to your usual inane babbling."

"A soldier stationed in Redcliffe just arrived with distressing news, Lady Morrigan."

_Maybe there is something of merit to this interruption after all. _Morrigan thought. She leaned over and lightly kissed the boy on the cheek. "Mother has business to attend to, Lucien. You should go into the kitchen and see if cook has a nice treat for you."

The child's lower lip stuck out with a pout and his brows furrowed angrily over his hawk like golden eyes. "But I want to stay, mother" he demanded. "After all, all of this will belong to me someday and I should be allowed to be part of the conversation."

The witch chuckled proudly. "You still have much to learn about ruling and I will teach you, but for now I think tis for the best that you let mother handle such trivial matters."

Lucien sighed loudly, showing his obvious displeasure for being left out. "Fine" he groused.

Morrigan smiled and ruffled his black hair. "I will join you in the dining hall for supper shortly." The boy rolled his eyes before stomping toward the door in a huff. As he passed by Anora, he stuck his tongue out at her causing his mother to snicker softly. "Your brother certainly has a mind of his own."

The queen nodded with a scowl and bit her lip as if she were trying to prevent herself from making a snide comment. Anora knew full well the things that could happen if she raised the witch's ire, especially when it came to Lucien. The power-hungry despot was quickly made aware that she was no more than a figurehead in Ferelden since Morrigan's arrival and she would already be dead if it weren't for Corypheus's insistence that she was still needed.

Once the witch was certain her son was safely out of earshot, she returned her attention to Anora with a bored expression. "Now, what is this news? And be quick about it."

The queen stared at the toes of Morrigan's black leather boots which peeked out from the bottom of her full skirts. The witch's new position allowed her to dress the part of royalty these days. The black and maroon dress of Orlesian design fit her personality as well as her station. Morrigan had always preferred the finer things that life had to offer, but her mother had never allowed her such luxuries. Flemeth always said that material goods such as jewelry and fancy clothes were trappings of mortals and she and her daughter were far above needing such things. A good spell was much more impressive and useful. Morrigan, however, never understood why she could not have both to show her power.

Apprehension mired Anora's face as she began to speak because she knew from experience that Morrigan did not take ill news well. "Milady…the soldier says that after Arl Sanctius's death, several of his fellows abandoned their posts to join a rebel army that has been formed in the west."

"That is not news. We have been receiving reports about the rebel army for months now."

"Yes, but there is more to it than that. Apparently, these rebels are being led by Arl Teagan at the behest of a mage named Hawke and…Alistair Theirin."

Morrigan laughed haughtily. "Do not tell me that you are worried about Alistair. You of all people should know that he is nothing more than a mindless baboon. From what I have heard, he is a drunk that could not even rub two coppers together."

"If it were just Alistair leading this rebellion, I would not be worried. Everyone knows that he is a spineless imbecile, but this Hawke…she may well be a different story. It is my understanding that she is a very influential and powerful mage."

The witch stood and sashayed down the stairs until she was standing just one step above the queen. A knowing smirk played at the corners of her lips. "Tis true that this Hawke you speak of may have once been considered a threat, but she is just one woman. She is also a wanted apostate who is not exactly free to travel as she pleases." Morrigan placed her hand upon Anora's cheek. "Do not worry your pretty little head about it. We will strike down the rebels if they ever become a true threat. For now, just go back to your needlepoint like a good girl."

Anger flashed in the queen's steely eyes as she pulled Morrigan's hand from her face. "I am not a child and you have no right to treat me as such. I…"

The witch placed a hand on the other woman's chest and sent a sudden jolt of electricity straight into Anora's heart. The queen immediately dropped to her knees in pain, her chest heaving as she desperately tried to catch her breath. "I have every right" Morrigan hissed. "I suggest that you do not forget yourself again, your Majesty, or I may have to grant your obvious wish to end your pathetic, useless existence."

Anora, still kneeling, trembled at the witch's feet. "Y…yes Lady Morrigan" she stammered. "I apologize for such a disrespectful outburst."

Morrigan grinned wickedly as she cupped the woman's chin and coaxed her from the floor. "It warms my heart to see that you remembered the lessons I taught to you when I first arrived. I hope that there will be no need for more."

"N…no milady."

The witch gave a small nod of approval "Good." She flitted her hand as if shooing away a fly that was buzzing near her. "Now, begone before I lose my patience."

The queen gave a small curtsy before scurrying from the room as quickly as she could without actually running. Morrigan watched until Anora disappeared through the archway at the southwest corner before ascending the steps again. She returned to the throne and sat back with eyes closed. Anora's news troubled her much more than she had let on. This new development on top of the rumors of the Dalish gathering in the Brecelian Forest and the Chasind banding together in the Kocari Wilds did not bode well. She also knew that this Hawke was very powerful indeed and her influence might actually give Alistair the boost he needed to attempt to take back his throne.

The witch grinned. _He may certainly try, but it matters not. Regardless of who he has found to help him, it will not be enough. Let him come and bring his insignificant rebels. I will be ready and the Theirin bloodline will die with Alistair._

* * *

When Anders snuck out of the inn that morning, he had no idea where he was going to go. He had spent the past nine months searching for Emily and now he felt as if he had no purpose at all. When he reached the outskirts of Cumberland just after dawn, he seriously thought about turning around and going back to her. But for once, he thought about what she needed and it certainly wasn't him.

For the remainder of the morning and into the afternoon, Anders simply walked. He wasn't even sure what direction he was going. All he knew was that he had to put as much distance between himself and Emily as he could so he wouldn't be tempted to let his heart lead him back to her. He finally came across a large grove of apple trees, where he decided to take a break for a while. He brought no water or food with him. He hadn't even thought of that in his haste. His stomach grumbled loudly as he sat down and took a large bite of the fruit he had picked. He absentmindedly reached into his coat pocket and chuckled bitterly as he fiddled with the piece of material he found inside. He hadn't thought of grabbing anything to eat, but while he was rummaging through the room trying to find a blank piece of parchment, he found a long red ribbon which he immediately stuffed into his jacket.

The blonde mage pulled out the cloth and ran it through his fingers. He closed his eyes and pictured Emily standing before him after her long dark-brown hair had just spilled down to her shoulders. Suddenly, the love in her eyes turned to shock as his hand swung across his body and made contact with her cheek. He felt the bone break, but he was powerless to stop. Then he saw the terror and confusion on her face as his fingers tightened around her throat, choking the life out of her. When it was finished, all he could do was apologize and not only did she forgive him, but she actually blamed herself for what happened. The strong woman he had always known and loved was all but gone, replaced by the shell of her former self, and it was all his fault. She was no longer his sassy and sarcastic Champion, Emily Hawke. His lies and betrayal had broken her down and crushed her spirit. That's when Anders knew that he had to leave, so Emily could finally heal from the emotional wounds he had inflicted upon her…so she could find herself again. Even before he made love to her one last time, he knew that he would not be by her side when she awoke the next morning.

Anders had held back his tears until that point, but he could no longer stop them from flowing. His life was over. He wished to the Maker that Justice would just let him die. If things weren't bad enough with everything that happened with Emily, he had been having a lot of strange dreams of late. Darkspawn haunted his nightly visions and a great dragon called to him as if trying to call him home.

It had been less than ten years since he went through the joining, surely the taint hadn't taken hold of him that quickly. He pressed the back of his head to the tree he was leaning against. The thought of what would happen to him when the taint finally took over while Justice refused to let him die made him shiver. He would basically become a Darkspawn himself like that Commander Larius they met in the Grey Warden prison. Was that to be his fate? To live eternally as a complete monster? As it stood right then, at least he was in his right mind most of the time, but what was going to happen when his calling came?

Anders had never wanted to be rid of the spirit more than he did at that moment. Losing Emily and never being able to trust himself enough to get close to another person was bad enough, but losing himself completely to the taint because Justice wouldn't let go was just too much. He cursed the spirit to the Void for ever talking him into championing the cause to free the Circle mages. All Anders ever wanted was his own freedom and in a moment of weakness he agreed to let a spirit of the Fade possess him.

Justice had been working on him for months, trying to convince him that he needed to help other mages, but Anders blew it off for the most part. He didn't want to be killed or captured, he just wanted to live life on his own terms. Then, after the Commander left and was replaced by that Orlesian bastard Legrand, the first thing Anders was ordered to do was get rid of Pounce. A few weeks later, Rolan showed up and Legrand paired Anders with him on every mission. It was as if he were being followed around by his own personal templar and the mage was trapped once again by the ever-watchful eye of the Circle and the Chantry.

That's what drove Anders to the edge of desperation. That's what made him decide to actually listen to Justice's rantings about inequality and helping others. Rolan may have been a Grey Warden, but he was still first and foremost a templar and Anders knew without a doubt that the Chantry sent the son of a bitch to keep a close watch on him. Justice promised Anders his power and his knowledge if the mage was willing to answer to a higher calling. Anders would have done almost anything at that moment to get out from under Rolan's hounding his every move, so he agreed with Justice's terms.

When Rolan brought the templars to take him after seeing what he had become with Justice inside him, the other Warden paid for his betrayal with his life. Once Justice's anger had subsided and Anders had full control of his senses and body again, he looked at the devastation he caused and he ran. When they found Rolan and the other templars, the Wardens would know right away what he had done and Legrand would have had him beheaded. After searching Anders' thoughts and memories, Justice convinced him that they should go to Kirkwall to help his friend Karl first and he arrived in the city less than a month before Emily walked into his clinic that first time looking for maps of the Deep Roads.

That day changed his life forever. Justice did not approve of her presence at all because he knew that Anders fell for her from the moment she told him that she would help any mage in Karl's position, map or no. Because of her willingness to aid other mages, Anders convinced his other half that having Emily around would help their cause.

After nearly killing the young mage who had been captured by Ser Alrik, Anders began to see Justice in a different light and realized that he had made a grave mistake in trusting the spirit. Through it all, Emily was right there at his side telling him it was going to be okay. For years, she had been trying to start a relationship between them, but he refused because of Justice. When Isabela told him about what Fenris did to the young mage, it made him realize that he stood the chance of losing her and more than anything he wanted to be with her.

For three years, Anders put everything he was into his relationship with Emily. Nothing mattered more than her, and when he discovered that she was going to have his baby he felt like he finally had everything he had ever hoped for in life. Because he wanted to contribute monetarily to the their child, in addition to his normal hours at the clinic, Anders also began working for coin by healing the ladies of the Blooming Rose and for their more wealthy patrons who wanted to keep the knowledge of their extracurricular activities from their family physicians. Then, when she came to him that day at his clinic and he found out that she was in the midst of a miscarriage he couldn't stop, it changed everything.

He blamed himself for working so much and not being there when she needed him. If he had been home more, maybe he could have prevented it. Then again, it probably would have never even happened if it hadn't been for his taint. He just couldn't face her, knowing that it was his fault that she lost the baby she had so desperately been wanting, so he immersed himself in his work even more. He spent longer hours at the clinic and when he did go home it was only to sleep.

When she begged him to take a day off so they could spend some time together, he reluctantly agreed. While they were out shopping, he found an emerald ring that was just perfect for her and he had just enough of his own coin to buy it. He thought at the time that it was some sort of sign that maybe things would get better. He asked her to marry him and left for work that morning, but as the day progressed, the side of him that was Justice convinced him that it was a mistake.

Over the next few days, he stayed away from home and the spirit talked him into carrying out a plan he had worked on a bit years before, but never had the guts to go through with. He realized then that Emily's life was better without him and he did everything he could to make her hate him. He honestly thought that after he blew up the Chantry, she would take his life and then it would be over. When she spared him and asked him to fight by her side, he asked her to be his bride once again. When she agreed, he swore to himself that if they made it out of the battle alive, he would fully devote his life to her and Justice be damned.

After Anders fell at the foot of Sundermount, he actually embraced death like an old friend, but Justice wasn't finished with him and pulled him back from entering the Void. The spirit gave him enough strength to pull himself behind a formation of nearby rocks to hide himself, then kept him alive, but just barely alive, until Merrill's old clan found him. Their new leader told him that Asha'belannar led them there and he was to stay among them until he recovered.

He hadn't been able to reach his power to heal himself and the Dalish tribe still had no Keeper, so they relied on potions and folk remedies to make him well. The entire time he was with the elves, he never felt Justice, not even once, and even though he missed the power the spirit gave him, he found that he was actually happy that the spirit was gone. After nearly three months, Anders finally made a full recovery after a new Keeper arrived and made an antidote for the poison that blocked him from his gift. When he finally took his leave of the clan, he felt the small stirring of Justice within him once again, but the spirit seemed sated somehow by what happened in Kirkwall.

Anders searched for Emily in the Free Marches for another five months before he finally overheard some privateers say that Isabela's ship was docked in Jader. Upon hearing the news, the mage immediately made arrangements to board a merchant vessel that was headed for the Orlesian port. The evening they landed, he found that no one was aboard the _Siren's Call _and nobody would tell him anything about the brig that was moored in the harbor or about the people who had sailed on it. That was when he felt Justice's anger arise for the first time since Kirkwall, but only a little, and he wasn't positive that it wasn't actually his own ire that had taken hold. He went to see the harbormaster and planned to simply frighten the man into giving him the information he sought. Anders was in complete control until that little bastard told him that the Seekers were on their way to capture Emily and their friends. Upon hearing that, Justice was immediately riled and it was all Anders could do to keep the spirit's anger at bay.

The next morning, Anders located Isabela's first mate and, because of the extenuating circumstances, convinced him to go ahead and hire a crew before the captain's return. He then took a room at the inn that the bosun said they had frequented before their departure and waited. His heart leapt the night he finally saw Isabela saunter through the door of the Twin Tankard with Fenris and a strange woman trailing close behind, but sank again when he realized that Emily wasn't with them.

After meeting Isabela and the others in the woods outside the village, they formulated a plan that would get them all, including Emily and whomever traveled with her, away from the Seekers and onto the ship. They lay in wait for two days near the forest for the others to arrive and flanked the Chantry's soldiers as they surrounded the three mages and the prince. When the enemy's leader grabbed Emily, Anders called upon his fury and the power of the Fade within him to vanquish their foes down to the last man before making his way back to the ship. Unfortunately, while he was headed to meet the others, he was spotted by several templars within the village and had to make a run for the brig.

Once on board and face to face with the one thing that had kept him going all those months, he thought that everything would be right with his world once again, but Emily seemed…different, like something had changed. When he met Alistair, Anders had his suspicions right away, which caused Justice to stir, but he quickly drove those thoughts from his mind. When Emily confirmed his suspicions, even though he remained cool on the outside, Justice began raging inside Anders once more.

The simple truth of the matter was, Anders couldn't believe that Emily could have replaced him so soon and so easily. She was all he thought about during those months they were apart. She was the only woman he had ever truly loved and, even though he never let it show, the knowledge that she had found another was eating him up inside. The worst part was, unlike Fenris whom he had hated almost instantly, Alistair was actually someone Anders could have been friends with under different circumstances. He seemed like a good and decent man for the most part and he was the type of man that the healer would have wanted Emily to be with if he hadn't survived the battle in Kirkwall.

Since the moment Emily confessed what had happened between her and the prince, Anders wrestled with the question of whether she had agreed to marry him out of guilt or a sense of loyalty, and not because of her love for him. When he saw Emily kiss Alistair, it was as if his worst fears had come to life and his heart shattered on the spot. Then, when she came back to their room just minutes later, he had every intention of forgiving her but he wanted an explanation as to what exactly was going on between her and the prince. When she became angry, Anders could feel his hold on Justice slipping and when she insulted the spirit directly, he lost all control.

He only hoped that she understood why he felt he had to leave. As much as it pained him, Anders knew that Alistair was a better man for Emily than he ever could have been. The part of him that was Justice actually reveled in the thought of her being with the prince because it might help in the fight for the mages' independence. The part that was Anders just wanted Emily to be happy, no matter who she decided to be with.

As he sat there pondering about what went wrong with his relationship, the question of his calling came to his mind once again. _What am I to do? _he wondered. He didn't want to submit to the taint on the surface, but he also didn't want to wander the Deep Roads for ages feeding on whatever lurked in the vile blackness of that place. Oghren once told him a story about a dwarf named Ruck that he met when he was traveling the Deep Roads with the Commander during the Blight. Oghren said that the pitiful man was more beast than anything else surviving by eating whatever was left of the Darkspawn that the giant spiders left behind. Anders shivered again when he thought that the same fate might befall him.

A familiar voice inside his head spoke to him. **_Even though I know that our task is far from completed, I grow weary of this world. There is beauty here, but there is also ugliness that corrupts everything it touches. I miss the comfort of the Fade, but because of the way I was brought into your world, I cannot return except under an extreme circumstance which I have yet to discover. I am doomed to walk this plane of existence in this mortal shell until we find some way to undo what has been done and I am afraid that it will end with your demise old friend._**

_I do not care. _Anders told the spirit. _I am also weary…weary of body, mind and heart. I would embrace death if I could, especially now, but you will not let me go. _

**_I do not enjoy inhabiting an empty shell as I did in Amaranthine with the Warden Kristoff's corpse. As much as you wish it otherwise, I cannot go back to that existence._**

_Then what is the answer? Because I do not want to be alive when this taint poisons my mind and body completely._

**_I have an idea, but it will need to be researched. But it means that we must both face your past. It means that you must return to the Grey Wardens._**

_But Emily said that the Wardens are gone. How am I supposed to return to the Order when it is no more?_

**_There is one who remains in the tower at the old Warden outpost in Ferelden. Avernus has the answers we seek._**


	54. Chapter 54

Emily quickly finished buckling the straps of her leather halter when she heard a knock at her door. Once the hasp had been secured she called, "Come in" to the person who was waiting outside her room. Alistair walked through the door and flashed a sexy crooked grin when he noticed her outfit.

"Good choice" he nodded approvingly. "I'm not sure if you were aware of the fact, but that one is my favorite."

The mage raised a brow. "Oh? And here I thought that you preferred to see me in nothing."

The prince laughed. "Is that an option?"

Emily shook her head. "No."

"Tease." Alistair shot back. "You know it's not very nice for you to get my hopes up like that when you know that you're just going to shoot me down in the end."

Part of Emily wanted to tell him that she wasn't teasing, but she wasn't ready to put her heart on the line for a man she knew that she couldn't have, especially so soon after what had happened with Anders. It was tempting though, especially with him standing so near. She finally tore her eyes away from his long enough to notice that he was wearing different armor. Normally, Alistair wore plate or chain, but he was standing there before her dressed head to toe in black leather armor complete with matching gloves and boots. In fact, his high collared black leather duster was the only thing that had any other color to it. Around the collar itself, was a delicate gold ivy pattern and down the outside of each sleeve a regal mabari hound the color of burnt orange had been carefully sewn. His clothes and the way he held himself left little doubt that the man standing before her was royalty. For a split second, Emily had to remind herself that he was still just Alistair. She put a hand on her hip and tilted her head to the side. "Speaking of clothes, where in the Maker's name did you come up with that number?"

Alistair held out his arms and turned in a circle to give Emily a better look. "Do you like it? I thought that it made me look a bit more intimidating."

"So that's why you asked me to wear black?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Actually we all are."

"Even Merrill?" the mage asked apprehensively. "I don't think Merrill could be intimidating if she tried."

"You might be surprised" he answered with a knowing grin before tossing another leather garment at her. "Here, put this on as well. It will add to the effect."

Emily held it out in front of her and nodded approvingly. It was a duster very similar to the one Alistair wore, with the exception of the fact that it had no sleeves and the pattern at the collar was smaller and silver. She quickly donned it and returned her hands to her hips.

"Good?"

The prince rubbed his chin between his thumb and index finger as he circled around her. "Perfect" he finally replied.

"Well," she shrugged "I guess I'm ready whenever you are."

"The others are waiting in the back room downstairs."

Emily held out her hand to usher the prince to the door and gave an over animated bow. "After you, oh fearless leader."

Alistair rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand. "Oh, just come on will you?" he chuckled as he pulled her out into the hallway. The feel of his fingers wrapped around hers gave Emily goosebumps, but she kept it to herself of course. She was simply not going to allow herself to act like a love-struck teenager anymore. Alistair taking her hand was just a friendly gesture and didn't mean anything more than that. She couldn't let it.

Once they reached the inn's private room, Emily was in a bit of shock as she took in her companions who were standing around the two long tables that had been pushed together. The only one in the room who wasn't wearing all black or mostly black was Varric and only because he wasn't actually going to be entering with the others, but merely showing them the way to the inn where the Carta were meeting.

Fenris, of course, was wearing his usual spiked armor but he was the only one whose appearance hadn't been altered greatly by their new attire. Nadia was wearing tight pants, knee-high boots and a tight tank top that showed her bare muscular abdomen, all made of black leather and her usual wild curly auburn hair was pulled into a tight braid that draped over her left shoulder. A black strap around her left bicep held the sheath of a black handled dagger.

Instead of her usual white and blue, Isabela sported a black wool captain's coat with silver trim, buckles and epaulettes. It was short in the front and the tails reached just below the backs of her knees. Beneath that she wore a red linen top which laced up the front and in typical Isabela style, showed off a great deal of her ample cleavage and a pair of tight black short pants that didn't leave much to the imagination. To top everything off, the pirate had on a pair of thigh high black boots, black leather gauntlets and a red scarf tied around her head.

Alistair had been correct when he said that Merrill could look intimidating. The Dalish woman wore all black without any adornments whatsoever. Even her obviously new stave was completely black with the exception of the smoky dark blue crystal on its top. She had on a pair of trousers, a loose tunic with a high collar, a pair of silk gloves, black boots, and her head was covered by the hood of a form fitting heavy black ankle length cloak.

The person whose appearance shocked Emily the most, however, was Anion. Apparently, it was Alistair's plan to make the dwarves think that the young healer was Anders. Somehow, someone had managed to dig up an outfit that looked almost exactly like the black and dark green one that Emily had purchased for the older mage minus the black feather pauldrons. Anion's once long blonde hair had been cut shorter and pulled back into a ponytail just as Anders had worn his in Kirkwall.

The young man smiled sheepishly at the green-eyed woman. "You aren't angry are you? Alistair said that he wanted me to look as much like father as possible."

Emily shook her head slowly. "No, Anion…I'm not angry…just a bit…confused." She turned to the prince. "Why in the Maker's name do you want the Carta to think that Anion is Anders?"

"Everyone, including the Carta, knows who and what Anders is after Kirkwall. They also know that he wields a great amount of power. Those dwarves aren't going to be very happy that we're interrupting their meeting, in fact, under normal circumstances, they would probably show us just how unhappy they are by trying to kill us. I don't want a bloodbath, I want their help. I just figured that if they see that we have the two most powerful mages in Thedas with us, it will make them think twice about attacking and actually give me a chance to talk to them."

"That's actually a pretty sound strategy, Alistair" she concurred with a nod. "Now the only question I have is, where in the hell did you get the money for all of this?"

The prince let out a long breath. "I sold Cailan's armor."

Emily's brow creased in bewilderment. "But why would you do such a thing?"

"Because we needed the coin." Alistair straightened his shoulders and held his head high, his jaw set with determination. "And because I am not my brother nor do I want to be. I will be King of Ferelden on my own terms and I will not allow myself to be overshadowed by Cailan's memory. Wearing that armor will only make me look like a bastard prince who is trying to fill his brother's shoes."

"I guess I never thought of it that way" she admitted. Then, without thinking, she approached him and softly placed her hand on his cheek. "You are going to be an amazing king, Alistair…even better than your brother." She stood there staring into his hazel eyes for a long moment before he took her hand from his face and kissed the back of her fingers.

"Thank you" he whispered softly into her ear before backing away to address the others. "Now, we all know what we must do once we get there. I am counting on you all to be convincing and yes I fully expect repercussions later for making you do this."

"I already have a few things in mind." Isabela smirked saucily.

"I'm sure you do, Isabela, but they'll have to wait until we return" he retorted with a small chuckle which made Emily wonder just what it was that Isabela had in mind. She supposed that Alistair was free to do whatever and whomever he wished, but the thought of him being with one of her closest friends caused a sharp, stabbing pain in her gut. Even though she tried to keep her face unreadable, Alistair must have noticed a change in her demeanor because he bent down and put his lips next to her ear again. The feel of his warm breath against her skin almost made her knees buckle. "Don't worry…there is only one woman in this room that I would take to my bed and it isn't Isabela."

Emily backed away and bit her lower lip with a slight smile before pressing her left cheek to his. "I'll keep that in mind."

He pulled away and searched her emerald eyes before flashing a boyish grin. "So what kind of chance do you think I have of wrestling Merrill away from Isabela?"

"I think they come as a packaged deal" she smirked.

A small cough from Varric interrupted their banter. "I don't want to tell you your business, your highness, but those dwarves aren't going to be there forever. You and Hawke can do all this foreplay later. Right now, we need to attend to business."

"You're right, Varric." Alistair agreed. "Lead on, my friend." The dwarf gave the future king a small nod and headed for the door with the others filing in behind him.

* * *

The sun had already set by the time the small band exited the Wandering Raven that evening. Alistair's nose wrinkled as the smell of human waste and rotting food assaulted his senses. This trip to Cumberland was only his second and the odor that hung thick in the air reminded him of why he had never returned after his first visit to the seaside city. The inn where they were staying was in the oldest part of Cumberland, and it seemed its citizens preferred to use the streets as a privy as well as a trash can making the stench nearly unbearable while walking between the rundown buildings. He imagined that Darktown in Kirkwall must have had a similar smell to it and that Emily and her old friends must have spent a lot of time there because they didn't seem to be as bothered by it. Nadia and Anion, however, looked even more sick and appalled than Alistair felt.

"These people are no better than animals" the Wilder woman observed behind the hand that covered her nose and mouth. "Why would anyone want to live in such a manner?"

Fenris shook his head with a morose frown. "The worst part is that this is normal for the people who live here. With all of its culture and advancement, there were parts of Minrathous that were just as bad as this, if not worse. Most older cities have places like this. They are the areas which predate the sewers so there is nowhere for the waste to go other than the streets and alleyways."

"But how do they stand the foul odor?" Anion queried, his voice affected by the fact that he was holding his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"They were born into it so they do not even notice. Fresh air is likely as foreign to these people as this smell is to us."

Nadia looked at her surroundings for a moment before shaking her head. "This place…it makes me sick for my home. I cannot understand why those who dwell within your society consider us savages when they live no better than pigs in the mire."

Anion removed his fingers from around his nose. "A question I have asked myself many times on this journey" he stated before pinching his nostrils together again.

Silence fell between them all until they reached the outskirts of the city and they could allow themselves to breathe freely once again. Emily, who had been trailing everyone else moved up to walk next to Alistair. He assumed that she would question him about the plan he had put in place because she wasn't there when he had told the others about it. She seemed to need a little time to herself after the events of the day, so the only thing he asked her before she excused herself to go back to her room was to change into something black. When she gave him a questioning look, he informed her that he would explain everything later.

Once she was gone, the prince told the others to meet him back in his room in half an hour while he took care of some business, then he gathered his brother's armor and took it to the blacksmith whose shop was just a few doors down from the inn. At first the smith wasn't going to give him much coin for the armor, but after Alistair explained that the King of Ferelden had been wearing it when he was slain at Ostagar, the man changed his tune. In fact, Alistair discovered that the blacksmith was actually a Ferelden refugee and his own father had been the one that made the armor for Cailan when he took the throne.

"I remember when my Da had been commissioned to make this armor. He was so proud. I was still just a boy then. He even let me go with him to deliver it to the king…You look like King Cailan, you know." The smith had observed as he ran his fingers across the heavy gold breastplate.

"Cailan was my half-brother." Alistair said in answer to the man's unasked question.

"It's a damn shame what that bitch of a queen did to the country." He swallowed hard before wiping a dirty hand across his bearded cheek. "So why are you getting rid of it?"

"Because I need the coin for supplies" the prince responded with determination in his hazel eyes. "So I can take back our homeland from those who have stolen it."

The smith nodded solemnly before reaching into his pocket and taking out a small leather pouch. "My father didn't die at Ostagar just to have those Tevinter bastards take his home." He placed the sack in Alistair's hand. "It isn't much, but it's all I have and you're welcome to take anything in the shop you want as well. I only wish I had more to give to your cause."

The prince had to blink back a tear that threatened to fall over the other man's gesture. "Thank you" he said quietly which garnered a small nod before the blacksmith turned and walked into the back room. Alistair quickly gathered all of the things he thought he would need and was just about to take his leave, when the smith appeared through the door again carrying a large piece of leather.

"After Ostagar, I held onto this. I don't know why."

Alistair sat his burden down on a nearby table so he could take a better look at the garment. It was a leather duster with orange hounds sewn into the sleeves.

"My father only allowed me to work with leather back then, so I made that to give to the king as a gift for his birthday. My mother stitched the patterns into it with her own hands and my father planned to take me to the palace to present it to King Cailan. Before I had the chance, though, the darkspawn appeared and my father left for Ostagar."

"Are you sure you want to part with something so valuable to you?" the prince questioned as the smith held it open for Alistair to try on. The fit was perfect as if it were made for him.

"It belongs to the King of Ferelden, sire" the other man said with a low bow. "It belongs to you."

The prince placed his hands on the top of the smith's large biceps. "Thank you my friend. When this is over, it would be my honor to have you return to Denerim to continue your father's work for the crown."

A small smile broke out on the man's bearded face. "Thank you, your Majesty. I will take that under advisement." With another low bow, the blacksmith returned to the back room of the shop and shut the door behind him leaving Alistair to gather the things he had procured earlier before exiting through the front door.

After that, he quickly returned to the inn and laid the new gear on his bed before heading to the clothing shop on the other side of the Wandering Raven. He purchased a few items there before going to a mage's shop he had spotted down a dark alleyway. Once he secured a new stave for Merrill, the prince returned to his room just as the others began gathering around the outside of his door. He invited them in and explained his plan before passing out new clothes to all but Fenris. Isabela agreed to cut Anion's hair and even though Nadia groused, she reluctantly conceded to allow the pirate to twist her hair into a braid. He just hoped that his idea would work because if it didn't, they might be in serious trouble.

"So is it just my job to stand there and look pretty?" Emily inquired, interrupting his thoughts.

"As opposed to what?" Alistair snickered. "Standing there and looking ugly? You couldn't accomplish that on your worst day, my dear."

"You've never seen me after a long weekend of drinking the swill at the Hanged Man" she countered.

"Well maybe when this is all over, you'll have to prove me wrong," he smirked "but only if I get to wake up next to you at the end of the weekend."

Emily let out an exasperated sigh while rolling her eyes. "Any-way, just what is it that we're going to do?"

As the prince laid out his plan, the mage's brow slowly continued to arch upward skeptically. When he was finished she stopped in front of him for a long moment and just stared at him with a look of disbelief. He wasn't sure if she thought him an idiot or insane, but if her expression was any indication of her inner musings, it had to be one or the other.

Alistair caught himself holding his breath until she finally spoke. "I'm not sure that I would do it that way, but you're the one who has to convince them. If this is what you think is best, I'm behind you one hundred percent."

Relief washed over him like a cleansing rain at her words. He had been bound and determined to do things his way, no matter what Emily said, but gaining her approval meant more to him than he imagined it would. He kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Thank you" he said softly. "For standing with me on this."

She gave him a sad smile. "I am with you until the end…no matter what happened between us, I cannot abandon my king."

Those words struck a small nerve within him, but he did not allow her to see it. Instead, he simply bowed his head slightly. "We should probably catch up to the others. We should almost be there."

With that he turned to continue following Varric in silence. Even though Alistair knew he needed to give Emily some space so she could come to terms with what happened with Anders, he was finding it very difficult. He loved her and no matter how much he tried to change that fact, he couldn't…he didn't really want to. Down to his very core, he knew that she was the only woman for him. He just hoped that he could find a way to convince her of how right they were for each other before the final battle commenced.

He watched the others who were traipsing along the darkened path in front of him and exhaled a heavy breath. They were depending on him to lead them as so many others were back in Ferelden. The truth was, no matter how determined he now was to be king and to lead the rebels against the Imperium, on the inside he still felt like a frightened little boy playing soldier. He thought about something he once heard Duncan say. _The difference between bravery and cowardice is not a lack of fear. The difference is being afraid and still doing the right thing_ _anyway. That is the mark of true bravery._

As Varric stopped behind a tall oak that stood just inside the tree line which surrounded an ancient inn out in the middle of nowhere, Alistair began to wonder if his plan had more to do with stupidity than bravery. The dwarf waited for him and Emily to join them before he spoke in a low, hoarse voice.

This is the place. There will be guards standing within the shadows closest to the door so you'll need to take care of them first."

"How many?" asked Alistair.

"Not more than half a dozen I'd wager."

"It might have been nice if you had mentioned this before Varric."

The dwarf shrugged casually. "You didn't ask. Besides, what's six dwarves next to the mighty Prince of Ferelden? Hawke used to take more than that out alone in her sleep."

Alistair glared at the smaller man for a moment, but before he could make any sort of comeback, Merrill interrupted. "That's actually a very good idea, Varric" she whispered before addressing the prince. "Don't worry, I'll take care of them. Be back in ten minutes." With that, she quietly crept back into the blackness of the forest. As they waited, Alistair watched the others check their gear as if what lay in store for them was an everyday occurrence. He marveled at the confidence and ease in which they went silently about their tasks.

When Merrill returned a few minutes later, she scowled at Varric. "You lied Varric, there weren't six guards. There were closer to two dozen than a half."

"Are you saying that you didn't take care of them all, Daisy?"

"No, they will not be bothering us. At the moment, the only thing that might give us away is their snoring. It would have been nice if I would have had a better idea of what I was up against though."

The dwarf flashed a toothy grin. "I knew you could handle yourself, Daisy. Especially with that cool new staff."

The Dalish girl peered up at the smoky sphere on the end of her stave before smiling at Alistair. "It is rather pretty isn't it? And best of all, I can tell everyone that it was a personal gift from my friend, the King of Ferelden."

"You are welcome Merrill" the prince told her. "And thank you for taking care of the guards."

"You're welcome" she said with a nod.

Alistair addressed the others. "Is everyone ready?" When they gave him their assurance, he signaled for Nadia and Fenris to move ahead toward the building. Once they were a few feet away, the prince led the others out of the woods. As soon as Nadia and Fenris reached the entrance, they both kicked out a foot, knocking the door off its hinges. They walked into the room and stood several feet apart before turning toward the door, dropping to one knee and bowing their heads low. Alistair was next with Emily and Anion following close behind. The two mages stood at either side of the prince and stared threateningly at the stunned dwarves who were sitting around the room's many tables. Merrill, who was hooded, and Isabela entered last, both taking a knee and bowing to Alistair as well.

The prince noticed that the initial shock was wearing off when the Carta members began reaching for their weapons. He straightened his shoulders and gathered all of the inner strength he could find before speaking in a loud, clear voice that surprised even him. "I am Alistair Theirin, the rightful King of Ferelden and I have come here seeking aid from the Carta."

A hearty laugh rang out from the back of the room and continued as a nasty looking bald dwarf whose head was covered in dark tattoos made his way to the intruders. Alistair's air of confidence deflated slightly when he realized that he had completely forgotten that Silas would be in attendance at the Carta's meeting.

"King of Ferelden, my ass" the smaller man growled. "The only thing you could be king of is the pissheads. Where'd ya get the fancy clothes your Highness? You turning tricks for that old bitch that paid your loans now?" Snickering could be heard from others around the room as Silas leered at Emily. "Or are you offering your services to that pretty little number next to you now?" The dwarf then made a crude gesture with his hips at the emerald-eyed mage. "Come on honey, I'll show ya what a real man can do and ya won't even have to pay me for the privilege."

Raucous laughter broke out as Silas drew nearer. Suddenly, Fenris's lyrium lines began to glow brightly as he stood and he rammed his fist through the approaching dwarf's chest. The other companions followed suit by bringing their weapons to the ready, warning the other Carta members to stay out of it. Silas's eyes began to roll back into his head as gurgling sounds escaped his throat and he shook violently. The elf turned his head to Alistair as if asking permission to kill the man whose heart he held in his hand. Without a word, the prince held up his palm to which Fenris nodded and pulled his fist away, allowing his captive to crumple onto the floor.

Gasping for air, Silas held onto his chest. "Wh…what in the Ancestors are you?" he wheezed up at the silver-haired warrior.

"He's that Tevinter elf!" one of the other's cried out. "The one that was with that crazy mage that blew up the Chantry in Kirkwall."

Panic began to set in all around as another dwarf pointed to Anion and cried out, "That's him. That's the mage that did it!"

"And that's the Champion!" hollered another.

Alistair began to sense that his plan had gone awry and that they would be lucky to get out of there alive, when an ancient dwarf with a long white beard stood and held his hands high in the air to quiet the others. The din in the room died down until only the silent footsteps of the old man could be heard.

"And what is that you want from us, Alistair Theirin?" he asked.

"I want your promise to help supply my troops and for your best fighters to join us in the battle when we march on Denerim on the eve of Satinalia."

"And why would we do this?" he pressed.

The prince's eyes narrowed as his hazel orbs scanned the room. "Because if you do not aid Ferelden, my first act as king will be to outlaw the Carta's presence in my country. Anyone who does business with you will have their property immediately confiscated and your people will not be able to draw a breath on Ferelden soil without being taken into custody." Angry glares met him from every table in the room as he let the implication of his words sink in. "However, if you do lend your aid, I will see to it that you are allowed free trade throughout my country once I have taken it back from the usurpers."

"And what makes you so sure you can win against the Imperium and their mages?" the wizened man queried.

Alistair pointed the tips of his fingers out toward his audience and moved his hand along with his eyes across every dwarf present as he spoke. "I _am _the rightful King of Ferelden, let there be no doubt about that, and I _will _take back that which is my birthright. You are either with me or against me in this. I leave it up to you to decide which, but Maker have mercy on you if you choose poorly."

The old dwarf gave the prince a small nod and Alistair could see that he had at least won the respect of one man in the room. Before their course of action could be put to a vote however another dwarf stood and addressed the would-be king.

"I remember you" he said to the prince. "You were one of the Grey Wardens who came to Orzammar during the Blight."

"Yes, I was there." Alistair nodded warily.

"I remember your friend…she put Bhelen on the throne, stealing the crown from Lord Harrowmont and sealing his fate after promising she would help make him king."

"Yes," the prince admitted with a sigh "but I had no inkling that she was going to do such a thing. I disagreed with her actions, for all of the good it did me."

"And then she turned around and stole your throne as well." The other man stated matter-of-factly.

Alistair's jaw clenched as he held his head high against his greatest shame. "Yes, I allowed that woman to take that which was mine without a fight. I have remained hidden and silent for all the years since. I fully own up to that mistake, but it is one I am going to rectify."

"Then I will cast my vote now" the dwarf announced. "I, Vedos Harrowmont, vote to aid this man and his followers in taking back his throne." He turned to Alistair with determination painted across his face. "After killing my cousin, Pyral, Bhelen drove the rest of my house out of Orzammar and then hired the old Carta from Dust Town to hunt us like dogs ever since. I fought tooth and nail to win my place in the topside faction, forever severing the ties between the surface cast and those up jumped Dusters in Bhelen's pocket. But I am an exile and neither I nor my kin can ever return to the stone of our honored ancestors. If it is your aim to destroy the bitch that did this to my family, I will help you in whatever way I can."

As Alistair returned the man's words with a small nod of appreciation, others began to stand and cast their votes as well. In the end, only five dwarves voted against aiding the prince in his bid to take back his throne, but because of the majority rule, those that refused to help were not given a choice if they wanted to remain in the Carta.

After their agreement was struck, Alistair and those of the group with seniority spent the next several hours going over plans. The dwarves groused a bit when the prince informed them that Varric would be leading their ranks in the battle, but they agreed to it in the end. Once that decision was made, Emily went outside to fetch her old friend and if there were any hard feelings about him leading the group of outsiders to the inn, they were quickly forgotten when Varric announced that the next round was on him.|

Once their business was completed, Vedos and the others insisted on buying Alistair drinks, so the prince ordered an ale. When the dwarves noticed that he was only taking a small sip every once in a while, they prodded him to drink up. The last thing he wanted was for the members of the Carta to see him as weak, so he quickly downed his drink. As soon as it was finished another was being placed in front of him.

After an hour and a dozen ales, he tried to stand to use the privy and almost fell to the floor causing the dwarves around him to laugh and slap him on the back the way Oghren used to. At first, Alistair wondered if the men would look down on him for allowing himself to get into such an un-kingly state, but they seemed to actually warm up to him more because of it. After relieving himself, he made his way back into the main room of the inn and spotted Emily and Isabela at a table in the corner playing cards with three dwarves. He took a deep breath and straightened his clothes as best as he could in his condition before approaching them.

"I'm sorry about that whole misunderstanding, Hawke" he heard the youngest looking man say. "But that was only a small faction of the Carta that tried to kill you. I can't believe they were that flaming stupid."

"It's okay, Nir." The mage assured him with an inebriated drawl. "There's no shortage of people who want to kill me. At least they had a good excuse. They were under the influence of an ancient darkspawn. Most people just want to kill me for shits and giggles."

Isabela was drunk enough that she found Emily's words funnier than they actually were and she laughed so hard that she snorted before falling off her chair onto the floor. Emily casually peered down at her friend lying on the floor with her cards spread out around her. "Well, I can definitely beat her hand" she said nonchalantly, causing the pirate to start chortling all over again.

Alistair sat down next to Emily and it took a few moments for her to notice. When she did she flashed a bright, intoxicated smile. "Hello, handsome. When did you get here?"

The prince chuckled before cupping her chin and staring into her emerald eyes with narrowed lids. "I think, my dear, that you are drunk."

"Well, thank you for informing me of that, Captain Obvious" she smirked playfully. "Your keen sense of observation has saved the day yet again."

He moved in closer to her. "That smart mouth is going to earn you a firm smack on the bottom one of these days."

Emily bit her bottom lip as her lips neared his. "And who's going to give it to me, ser? You?"

"Maybe" he smiled as he rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. He moved to press his mouth against hers, but was interrupted by the sound of coughing coming from the young dwarf she had been conversing with earlier.

"So what exactly did happen at that old Warden prison Hawke?" Nir questioned while glaring daggers at the prince.

Alistair listened closely as Emily related the tale of meeting Corypheus in much more detail than he had heard before. When she got to the part about Anders being taken over by Justice and attacking her and the others she stopped for a moment and shook her head. "That nug shit for brains, fucked up bastard!" she bellowed before grabbing the bottle from the table and taking a long swig. After guzzling half its contents she slammed the container down on the table and scowled. Alistair noticed the light glisten off of a tear that had begun to trickle down her cheek. He placed his hand on the side of her face and turned her eyes to meet his.

"Are you okay, Emily?" he asked gently.

"No" she seethed angrily. "I'm pissed. I gave that son of a bitch nearly nine years of my life. I put up with his bullshit for that long just to have him hit me and walk out in the middle of the night like a sodding coward."

She stood up, kicking her chair over in the process. Electric sparks began crackling loudly at her fingertips as her chest heaved up and down with every ragged breath. Alistair had never seen her like that before. Her emotions were quickly building into a blind rage and he knew he had to do something soon or there would be real trouble. He quickly entangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her into him for a long, passionate kiss to which she melted into almost immediately.

When he pulled away, she stood there staring into his eyes, her own still filled with angry, bitter tears. "Share my bed tonight, Alistair" she requested quietly.

He wanted so badly to heed her wishes and his inebriated state made it even more difficult to make himself question her motives. After several moments of internal struggling, he let out a long sigh "Come on." He commanded as he took her by the hand and led her outside into the night breeze to cool off. He pulled her into the tree line and pushed her against an ancient oak before kissing her again.

His body felt like it was on fire and the evening wind did nothing to cool him. Everywhere Emily's fingers touched him felt as if his flesh would melt from his bones. He moved his hands to her buttocks and lifted her until her legs were wrapped around his hips. He felt as if he were riding on a wild, runaway horse and he was powerless to stop the gaining momentum. Their tongues snaked and twisted together as he pressed his body closer to hers. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get close enough. His heart longed to make love to her, but his body cried out for the release that only she could give to him. His need for her was almost painful as she ground her hips against his.

Alistair pulled her away from the tree and dropped to his knees before laying Emily back onto the soft, dewy grass below. Silently, he continued to kiss her as he began uncinching the fasteners of her top. Once she was free of it, he kissed down her neck and reveled in the feel and taste of her breasts against his tongue. He found her scent even more intoxicating than the ale he had drank as he moved his lips down to her abdomen. While he kissed every inch of her bare belly, he loosened the strings of her leather trousers. He lifted himself up long enough to pull down her breeches and small clothes before returning his mouth to her stomach.

Part of him wanted to taste her, to worship her most intimate parts and make her lose control again and again, but his aching need for her would not allow it. He had to join with her, to feel her around him. He moved his fingers down and slid two inside of her to make sure that she was ready. What he found told him immediately that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He moved his mouth back to hers and kissed her soundly as he entered her. She responded by wrapping both her arms and legs around him while she began moving her hips to the rhythm of his thrusts. Not one word was spoken between them as they both quickly found their releases.

When the last of his seed had been spent, Alistair collapsed on the ground next to Emily panting with exertion. He lay there, both of them in complete silence, waiting for her to say something. He began to worry that she was regretting what had just taken place and wondered if it was going to serve to drive an even bigger wedge between them.

Just when he thought that she might have passed out, Emily sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. At first she leaned forward and placed her chin on her knees and stared out into the dark night. After several minutes, she finally turned to him, resting the side of her face on the place her chin had just occupied.

To Alistair's complete surprise, she smiled. "Thank you. That…you…were exactly what I needed tonight."

"Emily…" he began, but she shook her head to interrupt him.

"Wait…let me finish." She lay back down and rolled over until the upper half of her body was pressed against his. She lightly ran her fingers through his hair as she continued. "I am not expecting anything from you, Alistair and to be honest…I'm not sure that I'm ready to put my heart on the line again for a man who can never truly be mine."

"But…"

She placed her fingertips over his lips. "Please…just let me say this." She softly kissed the tip of his nose. "I've given it a lot of thought and after everything that happened today…after everything that happened over the past nine years, I'm not sure if I was ever cut out for a quiet family life. Maybe this is what I'm meant to be, and…I'm okay with that, at least for a while. Who knows? Maybe that will change sometime in the future." She sighed as she rubbed the scruff of his cheek. "You are a good friend Alistair and I will admit that I am still in love with you, but for now…I don't think I'm capable of more than friendship." She lightly ran her teeth across his lower lip and grinned. "Although…there is something to be said for a friendship with this type of benefit…if you would be interested in something like that."

Alistair's heart raced and his stomach lurched at the same time. Emily admitted that she loved him, but she wasn't ready to be another relationship so soon after Anders. She said that she only wanted to be friends, but she still wanted to continue a physical relationship with him. From everything he knew about her, her proposal was so unlike her. He wondered what she was really thinking, if she was simply trying to convince herself that what she was saying was what she wanted. He wasn't sure if he was capable of the type of relationship she was asking for…at least not with her. He loved her too much. As he stared into her hopeful emerald eyes, he conceded to just take things one day at a time and roll with the punches.

He kissed her lips softly. "I guess I'm willing to give it a shot if you are."


	55. Chapter 55

After what he did to Silas, the dwarves in the room gave Fenris a wide berth, even going so far as to avoid any eye contact. The elf was more than fine with that fact because he still didn't trust any of them. Simply put, they were greedy thugs who would probably rob their own mothers blind if given half the chance and if it garnered enough coin. As the rest of his companions drank and conversed with the Carta, Fenris chose to keep a sober eye on them all in case there was trouble.

Nadia was sitting alone at a table on the other side of the room, her cobalt eyes watching her surroundings. She must have had the same idea Fenris did, because she remained both silent and refused any drinks that the strangers offered to her. The warrior's pulse began to race when she turned her gaze to meet his. He flashed a hint of a smile in her direction before his attention was diverted by the sound of a body hitting the wooden floor. He turned in time to see Isabela lying on the ground with Hawke looking down at her while Alistair took a seat at their table.

He watched as the prince and the Champion almost kissed before being interrupted by a young dwarf sitting nearby. Once he was satisfied that nothing was amiss, he continued to scan the room until he heard Hawke shout a string of curses that he was sure had something to do with the abomination who had once again abandoned her. When he returned his attention to his old friend, she was standing and he could see that she was about to lose control of her temper. He had only seen her like that once before, when her mother was taken by the blood mage in Kirkwall.

He moved quickly toward the table to help calm her down, but before he got there Alistair had grabbed her and kissed her. Fenris stopped in his tracks and waited for Hawke to take her fury out on the prince. Instead, after a long moment, Alistair grabbed her hand and led her outside. The elf thought to follow them, but decided against it in the end. Alistair was better equipped to deal with Hawke's emotions, especially when it came to Anders. If Fenris tried to talk to her about the mage, he might have ended up with his hair on fire given her present frame of mind. Not only that, but the prince had been correct when he said that the last thing she needed to hear right then was I told you so.

He pivoted on his heel to return to perch on the barstool in the corner which he had been occupying, only to find Nadia sitting in his spot. She regarded him with a piercing gaze, as if she were trying to read his thoughts. Sometimes her scrutiny tended to make him ill at ease, especially when it came to Hawke.

"Avanna" he greeted.

She cocked her head to the side, her stare unchanging for several moments, before returning the gesture. "Dia duit, mo chara."

He thought to ask her what she was doing there, but decided that it would probably be considered rude, even by Nadia's standards. Instead, he simply grabbed another stool and placed it next to hers before taking a seat. Being in such close proximity to her was making him crazy. Since the day he had kissed her on the ship, she seemed to have put up an invisible barrier. They spoke to each other of course, but her countenance had grown a bit icy so Fenris decided to keep his distance. The previous evening when they had been drinking, they had gone upstairs together and in his inebriated state, he finally chanced kissing her again. When he pulled back, she smiled but said that she was tired and it was time for bed before turning and walking into her room. Then, that very morning, she had returned to being cold once more and had barely spoken to him.

"There was a drunken dwarf who kept bothering me" she broke the silence in answer to his unspoken question. "He asked if I was a half-breed because of my height. I told him no to which he said that was good because he could not see himself taking a knife-ear to his bed. When I asked him what he meant by that, he proceeded to become very vulgar in his language and actions." She turned her full attention to Fenris. "Apparently dwarves find violence sexually intriguing because when I threatened to cut out his tongue he tried to kiss me. When I punched him and bloodied his nose, it still did not deter him." She sighed and her face took on a worried expression. "So I hope that you do not mind that I told him my mate would not appreciate him coming onto his woman. At first, he still pursued, but when I told him that _you_ were my mate, he left me alone."

"And why did you think that would upset me?"

Nadia shrugged. "I did not want to harm any chances you might have for prospective conquests."

Fenris's brow furrowed in annoyance. "What?" he asked incredulously. "What in Thedas makes you think that I would want such a thing?" He stared at her, his deep green eyes showing how her words had cut him. He lowered his voice. "I thought we had an…understanding, you and I."

A hint of anger flashed in her blue eyes as she shrugged. "I assumed since you did not follow me into my room last night, that you were no longer interested."

"Andraste's ass woman!" Fenris huffed a bit more loudly than he intended. When he noticed that the men near them were staring he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her behind him as he headed to the door. At that point, he didn't care if Alistair and Hawke were outside killing each other or being intimate, he needed to speak to Nadia without every dwarf in the Carta listening in on their conversation. She tried to jerk away from him several times but he just tightened his grip on her bicep and continued on.

Once they were outside, Fenris turned and led her to the back wall of the building before he let go. As soon as she was free, Nadia slapped him soundly across the face, which Fenris did nothing to stop. When she lifted her hand to do it a second time, however, he grabbed her wrist in midair.

"Let me go!" she demanded. "I am not some animal to be pawed at."

"Not until you listen to what I have to say" boomed the elf. "Now will you calm down and stop assaulting me for five minutes so you can hear me or do I need to hold you down to make sure that you do so?"

Her normally cobalt eyes were nearly the color of steel with her fury. "I would like to see you try" she hissed.

"Fine" Fenris complied as he wrestled her to the ground and pinned her arms to the dirt. She continued to struggle and kick, but to no avail. The warrior was simply stronger and larger than her, so after several minutes she finally gave up fighting him and just lay there seething in anger. When he was satisfied that she was sufficiently compliant, he exhaled loudly. "Now, are you ready to listen to me?"

She responded to his question by glaring at him in silence. Fenris knew that he tended to put both feet in his mouth when he was angry and say the exact wrong thing at the exact wrong time. Not only that, but he was terrible at relating his feelings. He sat there for a long moment, straddling her waist while bearing the bulk of his weight on his knees, trying to find the exact words to say. He wanted to let her know that men outside of her tribe behaved differently than what she was accustomed to. He needed for her to know that it was not his intention to reject her the previous evening and he thought that when she said she was tired that she meant for him to go. Once he had finally worked out exactly what he wanted to tell her, he looked into her deep blue eyes and opened his mouth to speak. He was taken by complete surprise when his heart took over his tongue and he uttered the three words he had been keeping to himself until that very moment.

"I love you" he breathed.

* * *

"Are you okay, lethallin?" Merrill asked Anion as they made their way through the darkness headed back into the city. Each held a small magical flame in their palm, Merrill's green and Anion's silvery-blue. Up until that moment, the Dalish woman had been silent since they left the inn where the Carta was found. She had noticed the young healer slip out the door when the others began drinking, so she followed him. When she finally fell in step beside him, he only glanced in her direction, but kept walking without saying a word. She knew that he was upset about Anders leaving the way he had, but he kept it to himself. Everyone seemed to be so worried about Hawke's feelings, that they didn't even notice how much what Anders did had devastated the son he also left behind.

The young man stopped upon hearing her question. He pursed his lips firmly together and blinked several times. "I am fine" he lied.

"For what it's worth," Merrill said in a soft voice "I am sorry for what happened."

Anion gave a weak nod before he continued his stride toward Cumberland. That short exchange was the only time either of them said anything for the entire trip. When they finally reached the inn, Merrill followed Anion upstairs and into his room before sitting down upon his bed.

He frowned sadly. "I think I would like to be alone for now if you do not mind, lethallan."

The elven woman shook her head. "No…I don't think you do. I think that you're so used to being alone that it's just seems easier and more familiar." She bowed her head and picked at a loose string on her cloak. "I know exactly how that feels. I spent many years pushing people away because I didn't think that anyone really cared, that they were just trying to be nice."

The healer sighed heavily as he stared into the mirror over the small desk that was pushed against the wall. "You may be right. I am not accustomed to anyone caring about what I feel or think. I have remained mainly invisible my entire life."

Merrill smiled. "Well, you are not invisible to me or to Hawke…or your father."

His shoulders slumped as he bowed his head low and moved it from side to side. "How could he do that? How could he tell me that he loved me and wanted to spend time with me…to be the father I needed…and just walk away like that? He didn't even say goodbye." He finally turned to look at her, tears welled up in his pained sky-blue eyes making them sparkle like the purest of ocean tides. The effect was mesmerizing. "He didn't even take the time to write a note to me. I was just a byline in the one he left for Hawke."

"That doesn't mean that he doesn't love you, lethallin" she explained. "It's just…Anders. Do you believe that he loves Hawke?"

Anion reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. His eyes scanned over the words that were written on it and he nodded. "Yes…I think that he does." He shoved the note back into his coat. "But what does that have to do with me?"

"I am not sure what you know of their story, but when Hawke and Anders were together in Kirkwall, he asked her to marry him. The very next day, he left to work at the clinic and didn't return for days. After a few weeks, he just moved out while she was away without even leaving a note."

The young healer looked confused. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because, falon, he did the same thing to her. It does not mean that he didn't care, it is the nature of who he is. I know he has told you the stories of his youth. Anders has spent his whole life running away, sometimes for good reasons and sometimes for bad. This time…I think that his reason was a good one. He hurt the woman he loves…the one person he thought that he would never turn on…and he was afraid that he might do worse if the spirit inside him was provoked again. He saw himself as a danger to those around him that he cares about so he left in order to keep them safe." Her expression became thoughtful. "I feel sorry for Anders. It must be such a lonely existence to lead, being afraid that you cannot get close to anyone for fear of losing control and hurting or killing the ones you love."

"I suppose you are right, but I am having a hard time feeling pity for him at the moment. The pain is too fresh and too near to me." Anion looked down at his clothes and shook his head. "I may look like my father, but I am not him and I would not wish to be." His gaze returned to the elven woman sitting upon his bed. "I think that I would like to get out of these clothes now, if you do not mind, lethallan."

Merrill bobbed her head and stood. Anion, who must have thought that she was headed for the door, was surprised when she stopped in front of him and began unbuttoning his coat. As she fumbled with the fastenings, her mossy green eyes never left his. When she had helped him out of the jacket, she wordlessly pulled his tunic and then his shirt over his head. Once his top half was completely bare, she led him to the bed and pushed down on his shoulders to let him know that she wished for him to sit before she removed his boots. After his feet were free, she urged him onto his back and then went to work on his trousers.

Anion did not argue or protest, allowing Merrill to do whatever she wished, so as soon as he was down to his small clothes, she began removing her own garments. Once she had shed her breeches, and was dressed in only her smalls and breast band, she climbed onto the bed next to him and unbound his hair. When she began running her fingers through his dark blonde mane, he took her hand into his and softly began kissing her delicate fingertips.

* * *

As Anion allowed himself to get lost in Merrill's deep green eyes, all thoughts of his father and Hawke drifted away like leaves on an autumn wind. The previous evening which he spent with her and Isabela had been such a drunken blur that he could barely remember it. It was most definitely not what he pictured for his first time with a woman. He recalled that it had been enjoyable enough, but what was happening with Merrill at that very moment was more like what he had been hoping for. She was being so gentle and caring that it just felt right. As she rubbed her hand across his chest, the only thing he worried about was how Isabela would take the news if she found out that he and Merrill were intimate. Although the silence was comforting, he didn't want to do anything that was going to hurt any of his companions.

"Merrill?" he whispered hoarsely as she flicked her tongue across one of his nipples.

She kissed her way up to his neck. "Yes, Anion?"

He gasped loudly when she lightly bit into his flesh as her hand cupped his bulging manhood. "Isabela won't be angry if we do this will she?"

Merrill began planting soft wet kisses down his chest. "Do you plan to try to steal me away from her or fight her to win my favor?"

He moved his head quickly from side to side as she flicked her tongue into his navel. "No" he wheezed.

The elven woman looked up and smiled. "Then she will not be angry. She does this sort of thing often."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Yes, I am sure. Do not worry, falon."

Anion still couldn't understand why Merrill wanted to do such a thing when she already had a lover. His body didn't care one way or the other at that moment, but in his mind, he needed to know her reasoning.

"But why?" he questioned. "Why do you want to do this with me?"

She grinned and shrugged a shoulder. "Because, we are friends and after the day you have had, I think you could use the distraction."


	56. Chapter 56

When Emily awoke back at the inn late the next morning with a pair of strong arms around her, she snuggled in close to the chest of the man lying next to her. _It must have all been just a bad dream, _she thought. She inhaled deeply to breathe in her lover's scent and was immediately made aware that the events of the previous day had, in fact, been a reality. She searched her mind as she tried to recall how she even got back into the city. She had drank entirely too much the night before and everything was quite fuzzy at that moment. Mental pictures of what took place flashed through her brain, but she couldn't remember anything after lying on the grass with Alistair.

She felt a pair of lips on the top of her head. "Good morning" he said in a low, hoarse voice.

Emily looked up into Alistair's hazel eyes which were slightly bloodshot. She recalled what she could of their conversation after their encounter the night before. Had she really asked him if he was willing to carry on a platonic relationship with…benefits? She thought for a moment that she might have regretted those words, but to her utter amazement, she didn't. After all, she was a grown woman and sometimes she needed to feel the comfort and closeness of a man. Proper society may have looked down on her for her decision, but what did she give a rat's ass about what proper society thought anyway. She was a mage, an apostate, she would never be accepted among people like that no matter what she did or how well she behaved. Not only that, but it wasn't as if she planned to go out and bed every man she met. She had no intention of spreading herself around as Isabela did. It was one man. A kind, caring man that she trusted…that she loved.

_Stop it Hawke, _she berated herself. _You can't think about it like that. You cannot allow yourself to get any more emotionally involved than you already are. It is nothing more than physical companionship from a trusted friend. No different than if you started sleeping with Isabela. Your heart has been trampled on enough and Alistair can never be yours._

The prince's eyes narrowed. "A copper for your thoughts?"

"Sorry" she apologized. "I was just trying to remember how I got here."

"Well, what's the last thing you remember?"

"Lying in the grass with you looking up at the stars between the branches of the trees."

He smirked. "So-o, you don't remember the retching and the passing out part I take it?"

Emily scowled. "I didn't really do that, did I?"

"Oh, I can assure you that you did, dear lady." Alistair chuckled. "I had to scramble to get out of the way. I didn't realize that a woman your size could vomit that much."

The mage flopped onto her back. "Dear sweet Maker. No wonder I feel like someone used my gut as a sparring dummy."

"I can imagine. Anyway, once you passed out, I covered you with my coat, picked you up and carried you back here. Luckily, I found Fenris and Nadia outside along the way, so I told them to make our apologies to the dwarves."

Emily's expression became one of both surprise and reverent awe. "So you carried me the entire way?"

Alistair pushed her bangs out of her eyes. "Well, you were in no condition to walk on your own, and I couldn't just leave you there."

Thank you" she smiled. Then she began to question one minor detail of his story. "Alistair…if I was passed out when we got back…how did I end up in your bed?"

He squeezed his arm tighter around her. "Actually, my dear, we are in your bed. When I laid you down and began to cover you up, you woke long enough to ask me to stay because you didn't want to be alone, so I simply abided by your wishes."

"Oh" she said quietly before chewing her lower lip. For the first time with Alistair, Emily felt awkward and unsure of what to say. The situation she found herself in was completely different. She enjoyed cuddling with the prince, but given the state of their new relationship, she wasn't entirely sure it was appropriate.

It was Alistair who finally broke the silence between them. "Look…Emily…we were both pretty out of it last night and I know you weren't exactly thinking clearly. I feel like a complete scumbag because I think I may have taken advantage of your…condition and I shouldn't have. I just hope that you aren't too angry with me and you can forgive me."

The mage propped herself up on her elbow. "There's nothing to forgive Alistair. I asked you to share my bed, remember?"

The prince sat up and sighed heavily. "I know…but I just keep thinking that you wouldn't have under normal circumstances. And I truly don't expect you to hold up to what you asked me about our friendship having certain…benefits. I understand if you have changed your mind about that."

She shook her head. "I haven't changed my mind, but I've never done anything like this before. I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing if I'm being honest."

Alistair let out a small chuckle and shrugged. "Me either. Don't get me wrong. I've been with women without the benefit of a relationship before, but those were more of a one-time thing. This is new to me as well." He pursed his lips together and furrowed his brow before searching her emerald eyes. "I suppose it's up to you, but I think you should know the truth about something before this goes any further."

"What's that?" she asked with a worried frown.

He rolled her over onto her back and ran his fingers through her dark brown hair with an irresistible crooked grin. "I just think it is only fair to warn you that I can be quite charming when I want to be and because of that fact, you my dear, are in very serious danger of falling madly in love with me."

Emily rolled her eyes playfully before giving him a sardonic expression "I think I can handle it."

The prince shrugged. "Okay, but don't ever say I didn't warn you."

Just before he lowered his lips to hers, a loud banging at the door interrupted them.

"Hey, Hawke" Varric's voice came from the other side. "There's been a development that I think you might want to know about"

"Just a minute, Varric" Emily called back as she and Alistair scrambled to get dressed.

Once they were out of bed and fully clothed, she invited her old friend in. When the dwarf noticed the prince standing there, his brow arched as his eyes moved from one to the other and he harrumphed with a self-satisfied smirk. Choosing to ignore the smaller man's scrutiny, Emily crossed her arms.

"What's going on, Varric?"

"I could ask you the same thing" he replied with a small snigger before clearing his throat and getting down to business. "Anyway, I just thought you might be interested to know that an old friend of yours just arrived in the city and he seems pretty anxious to see you."

"An old friend?" the mage asked warily.

"Yes, a little dwarven birdie just informed me a few minutes ago that there's a certain former Chantry brother in white armor that has been asking if anyone knows of your whereabouts…and he's got a new title…King of Starkhaven"

"Balls!" Emily cursed under her breath. "How the bloody hell did he find me here?"

"Apparently, he's had eyes on every major port along the coast from Ostwick to Val Royeaux looking for Rivaini's ship and he just happened to be in Glasswell which is less than a day's ride north of Cumberland when he got the news that the _Siren's Call _made port in the city docks two nights ago."

"Is he alone?"

"Come on Hawke, do you really think he would be looking for you if he was?"

She exhaled loudly. "Then how do we get out of here without being seen?"

"The better question is, how are we going to get to the ship now?"

"Why run at all?" Alistair asked as he folded his arms over his broad chest.

"I take it you have another idea, your Highness?" Varric inquired.

"Actually I do" he replied.

"Well, don't just stand there" the dwarf insisted. "Enlighten us, oh royal one."

* * *

Nadia stared out the window, her back turned to the man lying next to her. In truth, she hadn't slept very well and had been going over the events of the previous twelve hours in her head. She thought that Alistair's plan to win over the dwarves had gone better than expected, but the rest of the evening had left her more confused than ever.

Fenris told her that he loved her. No man had ever said that to her before and she never really expected to ever hear anyone say it. At first, she wondered if maybe he told her that because he thought that it would give him a better chance of sharing her bed. Then again, he said it after she told him that she expected him to follow her into her room the night before. Why would he say those words to her? She knew what she was. She had heard the whisperings among the men in her tribe. She was a cold, bitter, defiled woman which no man would want as a mate. When she returned to her people from her years in captivity, she assumed that she would die barren and alone. She never dreamed that any man would ever look upon her with anything but disgust after the things she had done to her.

The silver-haired elf rolled over and slipped an arm around her waist before tucking his body closely into her back. Nadia had to admit that it was a feeling of comfort the like of which she had never before known. She closed her eyes and smiled at the feeling of being so close to someone. Had she actually found a kindred spirit in the midst of all of the world's ugliness in which to share her life? She supposed that only time would reveal the truth of it, but for that moment she finally willed herself to stop thinking, relax and just enjoy the comfort of having him there with her.

She was just drifting off into the first peaceful sleep she had allowed herself in years, when she heard a loud rapping at her door.

* * *

"Absolutely not!" Fenris bellowed as Nadia pulled on the black leather boots Alistair had procured for her the previous afternoon. "I will not allow you to go alone with him to speak with Vael. It is simply too dangerous."

The Wilder woman shook her head. "I will be fine, mo milis. Do not worry. You should know by now that I can handle myself in a fight as well as any man."

He placed his hands on her cheeks and stared into her cobalt eyes with worry. "Yes, mal cornum, but he will be accompanied by his soldiers and it does not matter how skilled you are, if you are far outnumbered, even you will be unable to defend yourself."

Nadia stiffened her shoulders and narrowed her eyes. "You underestimate me, Fenris."

The elf threw his hands in the air. "Fasta Vass! Is there anything in Thedas more stubborn than a female?"

She crossed her arms. "Yes…a Tevinter elf apparently."

"I am simply worried for you." He told her in a low voice as he shook his head. "You and I both know that revenge can breed insanity and unreasonableness. I saw the anger and hatred in Vael's eyes when he vowed to take vengeance against Hawke. He will not easily be swayed from that."

Nadia's countenance softened a bit as she took his hand, a gesture which took Fenris by complete surprise. "Other than Anion, who looks too much like his father for this man not to notice, I am the only one of us that he will not recognize. If you or any of Hawke's other friends from Kirkwall go, it will put both Alistair and I in more danger. This way, at least Alistair will have a chance to speak with this king without his attacking us on sight."

Fenris sighed heavily. He knew the truth of her words, but it was difficult to think of her walking into the lion's den without him there to protect her. He hung his head. "You are right, mal cornum." He reached up and began caressing the side of her face with his thumb. "Can I make a request?"

The slightest hint of a smile played at the left corner of her mouth. "Ask what you will."

"I know that Alistair asked for you to carry only your throwing knives, but would you please take your bow and quiver…for my peace of mind."

Nadia gave a small nod. "I will if that is what you wish, mo milis." She grabbed her longbow and arrows from atop the nearby dresser and slung them over her shoulder before turning to head to the door. Just before she reached it, Fenris grabbed her bicep and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"One more thing before you go" he whispered. "You must give me your word that you will return to me."

"I will be back shortly, mo ghra" she promised before kissing him soundly and retreating out the door.

* * *

The inn where the King of Starkhaven was staying was located in the wealthiest part of the city, surrounded by clean buildings built by the best dwarven masons in Thedas and made of the finest white marble and stone to be found. Even though the structures were quite old, their grandeur had stood the test of time and were a testament to their builders' craft. Normally, passing by all of the ladies and lords in their finery would have made Alistair feel a bit self-conscious about his own attire, but on this particular occasion, he wanted to stand out from the crowd.

Nadia was walking several feet ahead of him, a longbow nearly as tall as she strapped to her back. He had requested that she leave it behind for this trip because he didn't want there to be any inclination that he was looking for a fight, but she had been so insistent about it that he finally gave in to allowing her to carry it. As he watched the people who neared her position give her a wide berth, he decided that he was actually glad that she had it with her. Although she was a small woman who was no bigger than most pubescent girls, she had an air about her that told anyone who crossed her path that she was someone to be reckoned with and even in her silence, she had a glare that could turn the blood of the largest man cold. Alistair was counting on that to at least give Sebastian Vael pause.

As they neared the Golden Champion Guesthouse, the prince took several deep breaths to steady his nerves. Intimidating thugs was one thing, but this man was true royalty and grew up among nobles as one himself. Alistair had lived with Arl Eamon when he was a child, but he was rarely allowed to be anywhere to observe the goings-on at the castle. His one saving grace was that most of Thedas looked upon Ferelden as being quite backward and a bit barbaric in their customs and mannerisms, so he was most likely expected to be a bit brutish. He also thanked the Maker that Eamon had the chance to work with him on behaving like a royal when they were on their way to Denerim from Redcliffe before Anora had him exiled.

When they finally reached the entrance of the inn, Nadia seemed like a natural as a royal bodyguard when she opened the door wide, cast a wary gaze about the room and bowed low for him to enter. All eyes were on the stranger with the regal air in their midst, dressed head to toe in black leather. The short, balding, fat man who had been standing behind the bar, scurried out from his station to greet the obviously important foreigner who was standing in his doorway. He gave a quick bow of his head and restlessly wrung his hands together as he addressed Alistair.

"Good afternoon, ser" he stammered nervously. "I am Armon, proprietor of the Golden Champion. We have some nice, private tables near the kitchens if it pleases you. Otherwise, I have a very fine room on the third floor if you wish to stay for the evening."

Alistair waved his hand in dismissal. "That won't be necessary Armon. I have actually come in search of someone. I was told that he was staying here."

"Of course, ser" the man began anxiously before he hesitated. "Only…my guests value their privacy very highly and…"

"I understand, Armon" the prince assured him. "And I would never do anything to bring harm to you or your business. So, how about this? Instead of you telling me where I can find the man I'm looking for, maybe my escort and I can have a seat at one of your private tables and I will order a pint of your finest ale. In the meantime, if you just happen to see the gentleman around, you can pass a message along to him. Then, what he does from there is his own affair and should bring no trouble upon you."

A smile broke out on the other man's round face. "Now that I can do ser." He quickly led Alistair to one of the aforementioned tables and pulled out a chair. The future king sat and leaned back easily while Nadia remained standing off to one side. Armon cast a wary eye in her direction before bending at the waist and speaking in a low voice near Alistair's ear. "So tell me, who is this man and what is the message you would like for me to relate? If I happen to see him that is."

Alistair sat upright. "I am looking for Sebastian Vael, King of Starkhaven. Please tell him that the King of Ferelden wishes to have an audience with him."

* * *

Sebastian stopped his pacing long enough to scowl at the messenger standing before him. "The King of Ferelden? I was unaware that Ferelden had named a new king. The last I heard, the king died at Ostagar with no heir and his wife took the throne."

"Yes, Sire. That is what I thought to be true as well."

"I know that there has been some unrest in that country as of late. Could it be that the queen married in an effort to smooth things out there?"

"I do not know, Sire. I only know the message as it was related to me."

The former Chantry brother began pacing again. He was unsure what to make of this new development and quite frankly, the last thing he wanted at that moment was to be bothered with some visiting dignitary from a backwoods country, especially now that he was so close to finally catching up with Hawke and that bastard Anders. His man who had served as his lookout in Cumberland told him that he had personally seen both of them exit Isabela's ship after it landed. The _Siren's Call _was still in the harbor, so he knew that they were still in the city and he had tracked their location to the slums of Oldetown. He had already made the decision that if his men didn't find Hawke by nightfall, he would go search for her personally before she got the chance to get away. Then he had a thought.

"You don't think this could be some sort of trap do you?"

"I do not know, Sire, but it is doubtful. The innkeeper told me that the man was accompanied only by one woman."

Sebastian rounded on the man. "A woman? What did she look like? Was she a mage? Did she have dark hair? This "king"? Was he extremely tall? Did he sport a ponytail?"

The messenger nervously shook his head. "N…no, Sire" he stammered. "According to Armon, the king was around six feet tall and the woman with him was very short and carried a bow."

Sebastian's shoulders relaxed and he exhaled an easy breath. "Then it couldn't be them." He pursed his lips in thought for a few moments before addressing the other man again. "Very well, MacCrae. Tell this King of Ferelden that I will see him. Bring him to me in twenty minutes."

MacCrae gave a low bow. "As you wish, Sire."


	57. Chapter 57

"Come" Sebastian called to the door.

A tiny wisp of a woman with auburn hair pulled into a tight braid that hung over her shoulder and dressed in black stepped into the room. At first glance she seemed no more than a young girl, but her deep blue eyes held secrets of a painful and tortured past. They reminded the king of Fenris's eyes the first time he met the elf. Other than Hawke herself up until that fateful day in Kirkwall, Fenris had been the only one of his companions that Sebastian actually respected. The warrior had suffered things that no one should have been subjected to and even now, after everything that occurred, he still held the man in high regard and sometimes missed the quiet conversations they had.

The strange woman stood in the entryway, staring into Sebastian's eyes for a long moment, as if trying to read his very soul. Her gaze was intense enough to make him shiver. No, this was no girl. She was a hardened and seasoned warrior whom the king had no doubt could split his skull with one of the arrows at her back before he could utter a sound. She may have been short of stature, but there was little doubt that she was there for the purpose of intimidation.

She finally gave a short bow to him before moving to the side. Sebastian expected her to speak, to introduce her liege, but she remained silent as she took a knee and bowed low to the man who appeared at the open doorway. He was a man who looked to be in his mid to late thirties. Slightly taller than Sebastian with sandy blonde hair, he made an imposing figure dressed in black leather with a long coat bearing the symbol of his country on its sleeves.

The King of Starkhaven found himself slightly confused by the man's appearance. Not because of his clothing, but because of his face. Up until that moment, Sebastian had convinced himself that this stranger must have been given the title of king because he married Anora, but upon seeing him face to face, the former Chantry brother had no doubt that the man was of the Theirin bloodline. He remembered meeting King Maric when he traveled with his father to Ferelden once as a boy. The man who stood before him favored his father in not only looks, but mannerisms as well.

The stranger stopped and gave a nod to his lone guard, wordlessly informing her to stand. She quickly obeyed the silent order before taking her place behind his right side and folding her small, but muscular arms over her chest. The man in black then placed his right forearm across his abdomen and flourished a small, but respectful bow to Sebastian.

"You are Sebastian Vael, the King of Starkhaven, I presume."

"Aye."

"My name is Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden."

"You have the look of your father about you" Sebastian observed. "I had the pleasure of meeting him once many years ago. Though I wasn't aware that he had more than one son."

"Then you knew him better than I" Alistair admitted. "I personally never met the man, nor did I have the pleasure of knowing Cailan."

Suddenly, it became clear to Sebastian. This man was the bastard prince that he had heard about many years ago. The one who was exiled by King Cailan's widow because he would not bow to her rule when the Hero of Ferelden allowed her to keep the country's throne.

"Has the rule of your country been overturned, your Highness?" the king asked incredulously. "Or are you simply holding yourself out as a king in order for me to grant you some sort of boon? Is it coin you wish to relieve me of, ser?"

Alistair shook his head. "I am in no need of your coin, ser. My country has been handed over to the magisters of the Tevinter Imperium by an over-ambitious queen who gave an oath to defend and keep her. Since the queen has become derelict of that sworn duty, it is my aim to take back that which is mine by right of birth…the land my father sacrificed blood, sweat and tears to win back from the Orlesians."

"And what is it you want from me?"

"I am gathering an army to march on Denerim on the eve of Satinalia and it is my understanding that you have the finest warhorses and riders in Thedas under your command. I am asking for Starkhaven's aid to take back Ferelden."

"And why should Starkhaven interfere with the affairs of a country that does not even touch her borders?"

"Because it is the right thing to do" the would-be king stated candidly. "And because Tevinter will not stop with Ferelden. Once my country is in Imperial hands completely, how long do you think it will be before the magisters use their might to flank the Free Marches from both the north and south? They have already shut down the Grey Wardens and have control over the Anderfels as well."

Sebastian turned his back on Alistair and stared into the large, empty fireplace in the wall. This wasn't the first time he had heard that Tevinter had been behind Ferelden's troubles or that the Anderfels were under Imperial control, but until that moment, he had thought it merely rumor and speculation. If this news was true, then it did not bode well for the rest of Thedas. Starkhaven was small, and even though she had a fine army and one of the best cavalry around, she was no match for the might of the Imperium if the magisters wished to invade. On the other hand, he could not agree to lend his troops to this man whom he knew nothing about, save his resemblance to King Maric.

"And I am sure," Alistair continued "that once this is over, Starkhaven and Ferelden could both benefit from trade between our two lands."

The King of Starkhaven turned to face the other man. "As ruler of my land, it is my duty to protect my people. You have shown me nothing that would guarantee your victory. Do you even have any troops at your disposal? If Tevinter is a threat to Starkhaven, then I have a responsibility to my subjects to save my own troops to defend my own borders. I can appreciate the unique situation you find yourself in, but I will not chance losing my soldiers and horses to a lost cause."

"I actually have several divisions at my disposal" the prince countered. "I never expected you to agree to send aid without some sort of assurance of victory. I have made plans to leave Cumberland this evening to head for Antiva and I have a few arrangements that need to be made beforehand. Perhaps you could meet me at the docks before I sail in order to prove my worthiness."

Sebastian paused for a moment. Something about that request didn't smell quite right. He stared at Alistair for a time, trying to gauge if he had a more sinister agenda in mind, but the other man's face remained unreadable stone.

"I have some business in the city that I need to wrap up as well, but I see no harm in another meeting." Sebastian agreed, keeping his suspicions to himself. "Where shall we converge and at what time?"

"My other affairs should be concluded no later than seven…so shall we say eight o'clock at the southeastern docks?"

_The southeastern docks…that's where Isabela's ship is harbored, _thought the king. _Maybe I can locate Hawke and her abomination in the process._

"Yes," he replied. "I will agree to that."

"Thank you for your consideration, your Majesty" said Alistair.

"Since we are both of royal blood, you may call me Sebastian."

"And you may call me Alistair" the other man offered before taking one final conciliatory bow. "I look forward to conversing with you again, Sebastian."

* * *

It was nearly seven thirty when they left the Wandering Raven and it had to have been at least twenty minutes since they reached the docks. Emily watched Alistair pace restlessly up and down the weathered planks beneath his boots.

The prince ran a hand over the top of his blonde head. "Maybe he changed his mind and decided not to come."

"He'll be here" Emily reassured him. "Although, I'm not sure why you wanted the rest of us to come along. Once he sees me, all bets are going to be off."

Alistair turned to her and sighed. "Okay…I have a plan…but you're probably not going to like it."

She arched a brow. "Just what is it that you have in mind, Alistair?"

He took her hand and led her away from the others then glanced over her shoulder once before he began speaking. "Before I say anything else, you know that I love you, right? And that I would never do anything if I thought it would bring you to any real harm?"

Whatever it was he was going to say, she was fairly certain that she wasn't going to like it. "Just spill it, Alistair."

"We need for Sebastian to agree to help us, but you and I both know that he will not once he finds out that you are with me."

She nodded. "That's pretty much a given."

"And if I don't tell him, he's going to find out sooner or later."

Emily grimaced with confusion. "Of course. He's not an idiot."

"So I decided that it would be best to actually use the fact that you are with me to our advantage."

"And how in the Maker's name do you plan to pull that off?"

"Well…"

Just then, the footsteps of several pairs of heavy boots could be heard marching across the docks. Before Emily had a chance to say anything else, Alistair grabbed her, entangled his hands in her hair and kissed her lips. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes" she whispered while bobbing her head.

He leaned forward and nuzzled her nose with his. "No harm will come to you. I swear it" he breathed before turning and heading back to the others, leaving Emily more bewildered than ever. She watched Alistair and Nadia walk out to greet Sebastian, who was accompanied by nearly a dozen armed men, while the rest of her companions remained hidden in the shadows of some nearby crates.

"Sebastian," Alistair exclaimed in a friendly and familiar tone "I am glad that you could make it."

The King of Starkhaven peered up at the tall ships that were tied off around him and stopped when his eyes caught on Isabela's brig. He returned his attention to Alistair and shot him a small nod. "Yes…I am anxious to get this meeting underway, Alistair…if you don't mind."

"Not at all" replied the prince before circling and heading toward the others.

Sebastian stopped short of the darkened area of the dock and glowered at Alistair with uncertainty. "I see no reason that our meeting can't be conducted out here in the open."

"I swear to you on my father's honor that I mean you no harm, my lord" the prince implored. "In fact, I happen to have with me the person I know you have been searching the city for." He turned to the brunette mage and held out his hand for her to join him. When she stepped out into the light, he addressed the king once more. "Sebastian…I believe you know Emily Hawke."

* * *

As she walked toward him, the look of confusion in Emily's eyes made Alistair wish he would have just told her what he was planning to do, but he decided that it was probably better that she didn't know. He only hoped that Sebastian noticed her expression as well because it might convince him to pause long enough to allow the prince to explain things.

A satisfied smirk played at the corners of the former Chantry brother's lips. "So, is it your intention to offer Hawke in some sort of trade for my help in your battle? I must admit, it is rather tempting."

Alistair waggled his head. "In a way, but that's not _exactly_ what I had in mind."

"Then what is your plan…exactly?"

The prince straightened his shoulders. "I have already told you that I have several divisions under my command and that I do not expect you to send troops to aid me in my cause without believing that I have a chance of being victorious in my efforts. I may not have a conventional army to back me, but those who stand with me believe in my cause enough to fight at my side. In Ferelden, a small army of rebels led by Arl Teagan of Redcliffe have been gathered. On my side I also have the Dalish elves of my country, the Wilder folk, the remaining Grey Wardens, the mages from Kinloch Hold and as of yesterday, the surface faction of the dwarven Carta here in the Free Marches. There are others in Thedas I intend to ask for aid from as well.

It may not be a typical army, but history has shown that wars can be won by such a force. Take my father, for example. Against all odds, he led an army of rebels and drove the Orlesians out of Ferelden. The usurpers underestimated him as I believe the Imperium underestimates me. And if you aid me in this, when it is finished and we have won the day, I fully expect for Ferelden's troops to be at Starkhaven's disposal if the need arises as well."

"And what of Hawke? Where does she fit into all of this?"

"You and I both know that Hawke possesses and uncanny knack for recruiting the best people from the most unlikely of places. She is also considered one of the most powerful mages south of the Tevinter border. I believe that she will be a great asset in this battle."

"Maybe so," Sebastian retorted "but she is also guilty of a heinous crime. She aided a mass murderer who killed dozens of people in cold blood, including a Grand Cleric. I cannot just let that go. She spared the life of that demon filled abomination after he admitted what he did."

"I haven't known her as long as you have, but I cannot see Hawke as being someone capable of murdering innocent people, can you?"

"By letting Anders go," argued the king "she may as well have planted the explosive herself. If it is your intention to protect and harbor this murderess, then you will receive no aid from Starkhaven, ser. You would do well to turn her over to my custody immediately."

"Wait." Alistair held up a hand to stop Sebastian from advancing on Emily. "From everything I have heard of you, you are an honorable man as well as being royalty. Hawke has told me of your skill with the bow, but being noble born, I would wager that you are also quite skilled with a sword, no?"

"Aye" nodded the other man. "I was taught how to handle a blade at a very young age the same as any prince."

"Then what I propose is a duel" offered Alistair. "If you slay me, you can take Hawke and do whatever you wish with her. You will then be free to return to Starkhaven and gather your army to protect your own borders and not give another thought to Ferelden's plight." Out of the corner of his eye, he took note of the angry expression on Emily's face before continuing. "However, if I am able to best you, you will supply the troops I require and you will leave Hawke alone. Any bounty you have put out on her will be retracted and that will be the end of it."

"I have nearly a dozen men with me, some former templars, and you have only yourself and two women. What's to stop me from just taking her into my custody right here and now?"

Nadia quickly retrieved her bow and knocked an arrow while Alistair's other five companions stepped from the shadows of the docks, weapons at the ready, and took their places behind him and Emily. The prince was relieved at the fact that Anion had decided to cover his head with the hood of his cloak. Having the King of Starkhaven believe that Anders was with them, even if only for a moment, would have been more trouble that they didn't need right then.

"I think that evens the odds a bit more" Alistair stated ingeniously. "Please do not take me for a fool, your Majesty because you will be sorely disappointed."

Sebastian's eyes took in each of the prince's companions in turn, as if gauging his chances of success if he decided to try to take Emily anyway. He held up a hand to let his men know to sheathe their blades which were taken out when the prince's other companions appeared.

"Very well, Alistair" he conceded. "I will abide by your terms…if I have the word of your people that they will agree to hold up to your end of the bargain when you fall."

Fenris drove his sword back into its scabbard and stepped forward. He glared at his former companion for a long moment. "_If _Alistair falls, you have my personal guarantee that none of us will try to stop you from taking Hawke."

Sebastian nodded. "I will accept you at your word, Fenris, for I have always considered you to be trustworthy."

When the silver-haired warrior stepped back to rejoin his fellows, the rest put their weapons away as well. Then Emily too joined the others, leaving the two soon to be combatants in the center.

Sebastian turned and ordered his men to take out their swords once more in order to inspect them so he might choose which one he would use. After several minutes of scrutinizing each blade, he opted for his captain's longsword. When Alistair was sure that the other man was ready to begin, he drew his father's blade which had been newly sharpened and reinforced that afternoon by the same blacksmith that fashioned his duster. He tightened his grip around the ornate hilt which he had bound in black leather strapping in order to not only better fit his attire but his preference. The leather kept the embellishments of the weapon from biting into his flesh allowing him to hold it more comfortably and without worry of it slipping from his hand in the heat of battle

Each duelist held his sword with the tip of the blade reaching skyward in the time honored tradition of a salute before they began. As they circled around trying to find an opening, Alistair cast a quick glance in Fenris's direction. He said a silent prayer of thanks to the Maker for the many times the elf trained in one on one combat with him at camp while they traveled through the Wilds. Up until that time, the prince had never done much fighting without the aid of a shield, but Fenris insisted that he learn to make do without one.

_Shields are a crutch mal amica, _the Tevinter warrior told him. _And although they provide a certain amount of protection and can even be used as a weapon, they can also be a hindrance. A skilled swordsman can fight effectively with or without the use of one, and can learn to use his blade as a shield in its own right._

Although Alistair could not duel as effectively as Fenris with a greatsword, he had learned to use one and in gaining the strength he needed to wield the heavier weapon it allowed him to become much more adept at using his own blade. The prince had not only trained with Fenris, though. Isabela also taught him a few tricks at wielding dual blades as well and he had become accustomed to the feel of a long dagger in his left hand which he kept at his hip. For the moment however, he concentrated solely on using the weapon in his right hand as Sebastian advanced and swung in a wide arc from his left.

Alistair countered the swing by blocking it and pushing the offending blade upward. That is when the dance began, slowly at first, then quickly picking up pace. The two men continued to circle, swinging and blocking, thrusting and parrying, gaining momentum with every clank of metal upon metal. Neither waivered nor seemed to tire. Their skill and determination driving them forward, each aiming to best the other.

Suddenly, Sebastian lunged forward to drive his sword into Alistair's gut, but the would-be king pivoted on his right heel just before the point made contact allowing him to lay a well-placed strike with his pommel on the back of the other man's skull as he circled around. The King of Starkhaven was shaken by it for only a moment before regaining his balance enough to rotate on his knee and slice his blade across the outside of Alistair's right calf. The prince leapt back and hobbled a bit from the wound, but continued the dance just the same.

That was when Sebastian began taunting him. "You may have royal blood in your veins, but you fight like a commoner. And no matter what title you give yourself or what you do, deep down, you know that is what you will always be."

Sebastian's words did not bother the prince in the least, since it was something he had become accustomed to hearing his entire life. It didn't really matter anyway, Alistair was determined to keep his cool regardless of what the other man said or did. A lesson he learned well from Duncan long ago when he was first conscripted into the Grey Wardens. He twirled his sword in his hand and flashed a crooked grin. "In a way, we are two peas of one pod, you and I. Neither of us was ever meant to take our father's throne. I, the bastard son my father never wanted and you the throwaway who was forced into the Chantry by a family who wished for you to drop off the face of Thedas."

The prince noticed the smallest glimmer of anger flash across Sebastian's bright blue eyes. He brought his sword down toward Alistair's head which he managed to block easily. The king stepped back. "At least my lineage is pure, unlike you whose veins were tainted by the blood of a scullery maid long before you drank of the vileness of a darkspawn."

Still keeping an even countenance, Alistair advanced, swinging to the left then the right, causing the other man to have to keep pulling back. "Better the illegitimate son of a servant than a pompous, self-righteous brat. I was stuck in the Chantry at a young age as well, but at least I never pretended to be a holier than thou devotee who was simply an ass disguised as an angel."

Sebastian let out a guttural cry as he began taking faster and wilder swings at Alistair. With his wound, it was all that the prince could do to keep his balance. Just as the king was bringing another hard swing down upon Alistair's skull, the prince's injured leg caused him to lose his footing as he slipped on a puddle of his own blood. He quickly rolled to the left in time for Sebastian's sword to whiz down near his head and take a large knick from his right ear. Thick, crimson fluid poured down the side of Alistair's head as he stood and placed his gloved left hand over the new wound.

He only had a moment to catch his breath before the former Chantry brother began moving toward him again. The pain of his injuries and the loss of blood was starting to take its toll on Alistair, making it hard for him to concentrate on his target. Sebastian was relentless in his attack and didn't let up for even a second. As he retreated away from his foe, the prince slipped once again and barely escaped having his side pierced, but the king's blade managed to make contact with Alistair's sword arm and cut through his armor and nearly to the bone, severing the nerve that controlled his grip.

As Sebastian advanced to make the killing strike, Alistair tried to lift his right arm to block the impending blow, but instead dropped his sword to the ground with a loud _clang. _The king grinned wickedly as he brought his own blade over his head once more in order to finally best his enemy. With tremendous pain and effort, Alistair pivoted to his right as Sebastian's sword was arcing down toward him. He quickly unsheathed the dagger at his hip with his left hand, moved behind the king and wrapped his forearm around the other man's throat, digging the small blade into the skin at the side of Sebastian's neck.

"Do you yield, ser?" Alistair cried.

Immediately, the King of Starkhaven dropped his weapon and held up his hands in surrender. "I should have known that a Ferelden dog wouldn't fight fairly, but I yield just the same."

Alistair released his grip and staggered a bit as he tried to stand upright again. "We never agreed to fight with only one blade, your Majesty. Therefore, I believe the fight was completely fair. Anyway, a true king does what he must to protect his people, does he not?"

Sebastian gave a curt nod. "I suppose you are correct in that."

"So will you keep your end of our bargain?"

"Aye" replied the king. "I will."

Alistair then turned to Emily whom had run to be at his side as soon as the fight ended. With the amount of blood that was still seeping from his wounds, it was becoming more difficult to see or even think. He fell into her and smiled.

"You are so beautiful, Emily" he whispered. "I told you that I wouldn't let anything happen to you, my love." Then, his world went completely dark.


	58. Chapter 58

Alistair blinked his eyes several times before he finally opened them. His body was stiff and he felt sore all over as he shifted uncomfortably. He ran his hand across the blanket that was covering him and was surprised to find that, unlike the coverlets at the Wandering Raven, it was made of a finely woven material. He peered around the room and discovered that he didn't have a clue where he was. His fingers brushed a delicate hand near his left side and he turned to see Emily sleeping in a cushioned chair that had been pushed against the bed. He gave her fingers a light squeeze and she stirred awake.

"Alistair" she breathed, her bloodshot emerald eyes filled with a sense of utter relief. "You're awake."

Tears trickled down and across the dark circles that had formed under her eyes. She looked absolutely exhausted, like she hadn't really slept in days. He reached out and wiped the droplets away with his thumb.

His throat felt like an arid desert and his voice cracked when he finally managed to speak. "Where are we?" he croaked.

"After you passed out, Sebastian's men brought you here to the Golden Champion. Anion finally left a short while ago. He's been up for days trying to heal your wounds and imbibing you with spells of strength."

"Days? How long was I out?"

"It has been four days" she informed him. "By the time we got you here, you had lost a great deal of blood, especially from your arm. We were afraid you wouldn't make it." Fresh tears began to spill down her cheeks. "When Anion left, he told me that all we could do was wait…and pray."

"You should know that it would take more than a few cuts to kill me" he smiled through dry, cracked lips.

She sniffed before narrowing her eyes. "If I wasn't so happy to see you awake and alive, I'd give you a pummeling that you wouldn't soon forget. Why would you do something so rash?"

He sighed before brushing the fringe from her eyes. "I'm sorry about that. I had to do something not only to secure his oath to send troops, but also to insure that he stopped hunting you. It was the only way I could think of to accomplish both of those things. There is only one thing in this world that I would give every ounce of strength that I have and every drop of blood within me to protect...and that is you, Emily."

Any anger she was still holding onto over his actions visibly deflated at those words. "Don't say things like that Alistair. I am not worthy of such devotion."

As painful as he knew it would be, Alistair pulled himself into a sitting position and cupped her chin. He searched her sparkling green eyes for a long moment. "No…you are worthy of so much more."

Emily sniffled again then wiped her eyes. "Sebastian requested to be informed the minute you came to. I should probably send someone to tell him that you are awake."

Although those weren't the words the prince had hoped to hear from her, he sighed softly and nodded his agreement. He understood that she wasn't ready and he had no intention of pushing the issue so soon, but her complete avoidance of it was enough to drive him mad. He watched as she opened the door and whispered something to the guard outside before turning back to him.

"Since you are awake now, I think that I will go downstairs and get something to eat. Even though he promised not to hunt me anymore, Sebastian still holds no love for me. I think it would be best if I am gone before he gets here."

"I understand" he said quietly.

Emily moved to exit through the doorway and paused before circling and walking quickly back to his bedside. She smiled at him before leaning down and tenderly kissing his cheek. "I recall you giving me an order once," she whispered softly into his ear "that I wasn't allowed to leave your side without giving you a kiss first. This may not be exactly what you had in mind, but given the circumstances, I thought you deserved to have me follow your command…at least this once." Then she gently wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Thank you…for everything" she told him before promptly exiting the room.

Once Emily had closed the door behind her, Alistair laid back down. Before he knew it, sleep had overtaken him once again. He had no idea how long it had been since the guard outside his room had been sent to inform Sebastian of his improved condition, but he felt someone shaking him from his slumber some time later.

When Alistair opened his eyes, the King of Starkhaven grinned down at him. "I was beginning to wonder if I had been lied to. It's good to see that you've finally decided to come back to the world of the living."

The prince chuckled. "I will admit that you have skill with a blade, but it takes a bit more than that to put me down."

"Especially when you have so much to live for?" the other man asked with a knowing smirk.

"I'm not sure that I know what you are referring to" replied Alistair, attempting to play dumb to the former brother's suggestion.

Sebastian harrumphed, the smirk never leaving his face. "Play the fool if you wish, but anyone can see it when you look at her. I should have known that I would have been unable to best a man with your…condition." Alistair opened his mouth to protest, but the king put up a hand to stop him. "You do not owe me any explanation. Your business is your own and I cannot say that I do not understand it. I think most men fall for Hawke sooner or later. Even I was not entirely immune to her charms."

"You?" the prince asked with surprise.

"Aye" the other man confessed. "When I first met Hawke, I knew she was someone special. But because of my vows, I was unable to pursue her. Besides, she always only had eyes for her precious Anders. I will never understand how such a beautiful and intelligent woman could be so dense."

Alistair shrugged. "Love makes people do strange things, I guess."

Sebastian arched a brow. "Like fighting duels?"

The prince chuckled. "I suppose that could be an example."

The king took a seat on the armchair that Emily had occupied before. "So how is the arm, anyway? Are you able to move it again?"

With some degree of difficulty, Alistair managed to make a fist. The muscles in his arm were tight, but he found that he could at least use them again and he knew the fact that he could feel pain along the nerves that had been cut was a good sign. "It may take a little time to recover fully, but I think I'll be fine."

"That lad of yours does good work and he stayed at your side nearly the entire time you were unconscious. He inherited his father's skill at healing. I just hope that and his outward appearance are where the similarities end."

"Anion is a good kid" the prince assured him. "He only found out that Anders was his father a few months ago and he only knew him for a few days before the bastard took off again."

"Speaking of Anders," the king began tentatively "according to our agreement, I am no longer able to pursue Hawke. You said nothing of the abomination. Does that mean that I am free to capture him if I happen to find him?"

"You can do whatever you want to that piece of shit" Alistair spat. "In fact, I would appreciate it greatly if you brought him to me before you kill him so I can have a shot at him as well."

"Yes, Fenris told me what happened. He made the same request as well. It seems there are a lot of people who would stand in line for a chance at Anders' sorry hide."

"Just don't say anything about it to Hawke, if you don't mind" the prince requested.

"Don't tell me that she is still in love with that…that murderer?"

Alistair shook his head and sighed. "I think part of her is…or at least she is still in love with the man he used to be, the man she thought he was. That wound is still pretty fresh right now. I know that she's confused and angry but most of all, I think she's hurting. I'm trying to be supportive and understanding but it is difficult when all I want to do is rip the son of a bitch's head off."

"I hope you get that chance, my friend" Sebastian proclaimed before finding his feet once again. "As for me, I have a meeting with Teyrn Eustis of Ostwick in twenty minutes. I imagine you are famished after going so long without a meal. I will tell one of my men to have food sent up for you. And maybe when I return, you will feel up to going over plans for the upcoming battle."

"Of course" agreed the prince. "And thank you."

The king waived a hand in dismissal. "Although I contested your manner of victory at the beginning, the simple fact of the matter is that you bested me fairly and you have earned my respect in the process. Besides, I am sure you would do the same for me if the situation was reversed."

"Without a doubt." Alistair assured him.

"Then I shall take my leave of you for now" Sebastian said with a small bow of his head. "Rest well, my friend."

* * *

After picking at her meager meal for a time, Emily returned upstairs and watched for Sebastian to emerge from Alistair's room. The King of Starkhaven had not spoken a word to her since his battle with Alistair, choosing to relay any messages through the inn's servants or his soldiers. She knew that a confrontation with him was inevitable but at that moment, she didn't feel up to dealing with it.

She was completely exhausted. The only time she had slept at all since Alistair passed out in her arms was when she could no longer will her eyes to stay open and when that happened she only dozed off for twenty or so minutes at a time. She didn't want to take the chance of Alistair waking without her being there.

In his woozy state at the end of the fight, he had called her _my love_. Even after everything that happened with Anders, after everything she said and did to try to push him away, Alistair still considered her as such. When she sat at his bedside worried that she might lose him completely, it finally dawned on her that she could no longer deny her feelings for him. She absolutely and unequivocally loved the man.

She realized that she didn't want to be with anyone else…ever. As much as she had cared for Anders, when she compared her feelings for the two men, there was no comparison. What she had with Anders couldn't hold a candle to what she felt for the prince. For the first time in her life, Emily felt complete when she was with Alistair. He was the missing piece of her heart that her soul had been crying out into the darkness for. He was wonder, beauty, strength and kindness. He was perfection. In the eyes of the world, he was far from perfect of course, but he was perfect for her and she would rather die alone than be with anyone else.

She argued and fought with herself time and again while he lay there, his life hanging by a thread. She told herself that she was being rash and immature, that there was no point in having a relationship with him when it would have to end as soon as the battle was over. No matter what point she brought up or how much sense her logical brain tried to make, her heart would not allow her mind to win. She had no choice in the matter. Even if they could only be together for a short time, it was better than nothing. Her heart was breaking with her longing to be with him, and a few months of bliss among the chaos was more than she had ever hoped for before she met him.

Emily so wanted to tell Alistair how she felt, that she finally made the decision to be happy with what they had as long as they were able to have it, but she lost her nerve. She hoped that in leaving his side she would be able to come up with the perfect words, but she was unable to do so. She sat in the dark corner and closed her eyes intending to only catch a few moments of rest until Sebastian emerged from Alistair's room and did not open them again until she felt someone lightly shaking her shoulder.

"Are you okay, serah?" a young woman carrying a covered silver platter asked.

Emily shook herself awake. "Yes…I'm sorry. I must have dozed off. My friend had a visitor and I just wanted to give them a bit of privacy to talk."

"I remember you" the serving girl said with a sympathetic smile. "You came in with the injured man a few nights ago. I was just bringing a tray up for him, as a matter of fact."

The mage wiped the sleep from her eyes and stood. "For Alistair? I can take that to him if you would like."

The other woman placed the tray in Emily's outstretched arms. "Of course, serah. If that is what you wish."

Emily thanked the servant and carried the platter to Alistair's door. She knocked lightly on the wood and waited until she heard him answer before turning the brass handle. He was still pale, but seemed to be feeling a bit better than when she left him. His face broke out into a smile when he saw her.

"I was wondering where you got off to" he said.

She walked toward his bed and placed the tray on the small table next to it. "I brought you some food" she told him as she removed the oblong silver cover.

Steam rose from a large bowl of beef and vegetable soup. Surrounding the bowl were thick slices of fresh bread and to either side stood a small pitcher of cold water with a wine glass and an ornate pot of hot tea with a matching delicate cup. Emily assumed that he was probably parched after being unconscious for so many days, so she quickly poured some of the water into the glass. She sat down on the side of the bed and offered the liquid to him.

"Thank you" he told her gratefully before gulping down the contents. He handed the glass back to her and she refilled it.

"Are you hungry?" she asked as he began to sip.

"Famished, actually" he replied.

The mage picked up the bowl, dipped a piece of bread into it and put it to Alistair's lips for him to take a bite. His hazel eyes stared into hers as he opened his mouth to take her offering. She smiled and repeated the process. Silently, he allowed her to feed him until half the food was gone and he was completely sated.

"I probably could have done that myself, you know" the prince confessed once he was finished and she was pouring him a cup of warm tea.

"I know," she responded simply handing him his drink. The truth was, she didn't mind doing it for him and it gave her something to do while she continued to think of what she wanted to say to him. He scrutinized her over the rim of his upturned cup as he sipped, but she still didn't speak. After several minutes, he put down his tea and sighed.

"Okay, this isn't like you Emily. You're being too quiet and it's starting to make me nervous. Just tell me what's going on already."

She studied her hands for a few moments and frowned. "I've been doing a lot of thinking over the past few days and I...I was so afraid that I was going to lose you. The thought of you…dying…before I told you how I really feel…"

Alistair sat his cup and saucer down on the table and grabbed her hand. "I'm right here, Emily. I'm not going anywhere…at least not for a good long while. "

She looked into his eyes. "Alistair…I don't want for us to be friends with the odd occasional physical encounter." Sad disappointment overtook his features before she leaned in close and pressed her forehead to his. "I want for us to be more…if you're still interested. At least for the time we have together before Satinalia."

The prince's face broke out into a wide grin. "Really? Are you sure?"

She nodded, her emerald eyes filled with tears. "Yes" she breathed.

He went to put his arms around her and winced from the pain of the injury in his right. "Damn" he cursed before placing his left hand at the nape of her neck and bringing her into him for a long kiss. When he finally let her go, he chuckled. "I guess this dying hero bit really does work."

Emily playfully pinched his good leg and narrowed her eyes. "Just don't get any ideas about doing anything like that again or I might have to hurt you myself."

Alistair brushed the hair from her eyes. "I love you, Emily…and I have a bit of a confession to make."

Her brow furrowed. "What's that?"

He exhaled loudly. "I'm not quite as self-sacrificing as I seem. The night before you and Anders were supposed to get married…remember when I told you that I only wanted you to be happy and if you thought he would make you happy then you should marry him?"

"Yes" she replied hesitantly.

The prince cringed. "I…didn't really mean that. I wanted you to be happy…but with me. I had hoped if you came to my bed that I could convince you not to go through with it and when you left me that night, I had every intention of stopping you the next day. I'm sorry that he hurt you the way he did, but I have to admit…I'm not at all sorry that he left."

Her shoulders shook with a chuckle and she smiled sadly. "Deep down, I guess I already knew that and I think a large part of me hoped that you would try to stop me. Everything within me that night was telling me I was making a horrible mistake by not choosing you, but my stubbornness and stupid logic wouldn't allow me to listen.

To tell you the truth…I'm not sorry he left either. Anders was very special to me, but our time came to an end when he walked out on me in Kirkwall. The man that I knew and loved disappeared the day the Chantry lay in ruins. I tried to tell myself that he could be the man I always wished he could be, but he was never going to be that man. The monster within him was too powerful to ever let him go. And the simple truth of the matter is…as much as I cared for him, I never loved Anders the way I love you Alistair."

The prince swallowed. "You have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that." He then flashed the crooked sexy smirk that always caused Emily's stomach to flutter. "It's a good damn thing for you that I'm not completely healed, because if I wasn't injured you'd be stuck in this bed with me for the rest of the day."

She grinned wantonly while nuzzling his nose. "Then I guess we will just have to take it nice and slow, won't we?"


	59. Chapter 59

**A/N-I have been lucky enough to get more of a chance to write in the past week. As of right now, because of the fire my family had back in May, I am still living with my in-laws. I am hoping that we will be able to move into our new home by mid-August and once we get settled, I will be able to devote more time to this story. I wanted to let you all know that I do appreciate all of your reviews and even criticisms. Although it may seem that way, I did not take a break in writing because of the more critical reviews I received. RL just got in the way at that time. **

**On that note, I wanted to explain that because of the way this website is set up, the only way I can write an answer to reviews and critiques by PM. I would rather have a forum where I could explain things for everyone to see, so here it goes. Most of my character development is based on personal experience, either my own or the experiences of people I know. As far as Alistair being a worthless drunk, I have written him as such because I wanted to show a worthless drunk who finds his inner strength and overcomes adversity. Most alcoholics have to hit rock bottom before they finally reach the point where they decide to quit. Given what happened in Alistair's life, I wrote him as a psychologically addicted alcoholic as opposed to one with a physical addiction. He used alcohol as a crutch to dull his pain rather than face it. So when he was upset by Anders return, he relapsed into his old habits. I thought that it made his character more realistic that way. Alistair is not just a character written to take part in a love triangle, he is actually central to this story. I will admit that it took me a while to get there, but I believe he is growing stronger as a person by the day.**

**As far as Emily's reaction to what Anders did to her is concerned, it is typical of someone who has been abused. I say this from personal experience. Most women, even the strongest women, who stay in an abusive relationship do so because they see what happened as their fault somehow. In the many years they had been together, Anders had never struck Emily before. I imagine that it came as somewhat of a surprise. Not only that, but she had gotten into the habit of blaming Justice for any bad decision Anders made, what's one more? As far as no one coming to her rescue when they heard the couple fighting, it's a pretty typical reaction. Most people don't want to get involved and Alistair just didn't want to make it worse (a pretty typical response as well).  
**

**Alistair comforting Emily and staying by her side even though she admitted she still loved Anders, I found to be endearing and showed strength in his character. He genuinely loves her. I don't think that a truly good man would get angry and move on because of that. She was hurting and he was supportive, bottom line.**

**At any rate, I hope that I have cleared a few things up (what was going on in my head when I was writing those chapters) without sounding completely defensive because that is not my intention. As always, reviews are appreciated and encouraged and very helpful at times when my readers feel that something needs clarification. I actually do listen and sometimes alter my writing to better explain what is going on in my head that you guys can't see. Thank you to all of you who are taking this journey with me, Emily, Alistair and the rest. Your continued support keeps me going. :)**

By the time Alistair made a full recovery and he and the rest of their party were ready to set sail, Sebastian had already left for Starkhaven to gather his troops the week before. His plan was to lead a division of cavalry divided into three companies of one hundred horses each plus supply wagons, and the companies would travel within a few leagues of each other. They would ride southwest through Nevarra to the Imperial Highway north of Cumberland. Then they would follow its path around, without actually traveling upon it when possible, to Val Firmin. From there, the king would make his way through the northern part of the Deauvin Flats and due east through the Dales until he reached the Frostback Mountains. Once at the mountains, the king and his men would then follow the range south until the foothills, then east again into the Kocari Wilds until they reached the Brecilian Forest. From there, they would head north to the area of Dragon's Peak, where they would meet with the Dalish and the Wilders. Sebastian estimated that, with so many men, it would take nearly the entire time they had left to bridge that distance, but he assured Alistair that his troops would be there in time for the battle.

Alistair began to worry about time constraints himself when the _Siren's Call _left Cumberland's port and he realized they only had three months left before Satinalia. He called Isabela into the captain's quarters, which the pirate graciously allowed him and Emily to take residence of until they returned to Ferelden. Once the captain was present, the prince began to lay out their next course of action.

"The first place we need to go is Kirkwall" he reminded them. "That journey should only take us three days at the most. Hopefully we won't run into any real trouble and we can be in and out of the city inside a week." He then followed the coastline on the map to their next proposed stop. "From there we head to Ostwick to find the dwarf Anders told us about."

"At least the twit was good for something on this voyage" Isabela blurted which earned her a stern glare from the prince before he continued.

"From Ostwick we will travel north to Antiva City to speak to the Crows. At this point, we have no idea how to find Zevran and we don't really have time to search him out, but I think you had a good idea in hiring the assassins to help us, Emily. If we can secure Zev's freedom from the Crows, great. If not, we could still use them. Once our business in Antiva is finished, we will travel southeast across Rialto Bay to Llomerynn where Isabela will speak to her friends in the Raiders. After that, we will travel south to the Northern Hills. If all goes well, we should be back in Ferelden by the beginning of Harvestmere. That should give us time to rally all of our troops, including the ones that will be in the Brecilian Forest."

"Well then," sighed Emily "here's hoping that nothing goes wrong."

Isabela arched a brow. "In all of the years I've known you Hawke, we have never done anything where something hasn't gone wrong."

The mage shrugged. "Who knows, maybe the Maker will grant us his favor this one time."

The pirate patted the handle of the small dagger she kept hidden in her belt. "I'll keep my blades handy all the same."

Three days later, they found themselves tying their lines to the docks in Lowtown just after sunset. They hadn't even stepped foot off the docks when they were greeted by several soldiers of Kirkwall's city guard.

"Serah Hawke" a stern looking lieutenant exclaimed "by order of the Guard Captain, you and any associate with you are to be taken into custody immediately."

"I thought you said that this Guard Captain was a friend of yours." Alistair whispered to Emily through the corner of his mouth.

The mage wrinkled her brows together. "She is" Emily replied quietly before addressing the guardsman. "By order of the Guard Captain, you say? Doesn't Aveline Hendyr still hold that position?"

"I am not here to answer your questions, Serah" the man asserted. "My orders are to take you to the Keep. I would prefer to do this quietly and without the shedding of blood, but I will do what I must to fulfill my duty."

Alistair mentally prepared himself for a fight, but Emily simply nodded before stepping forward. "Then lead on lieutenant, for I too would prefer not to spill any blood today."

They all fell in line behind the lead guardsman, while the other soldiers flanked them from the sides and rear. The prince felt a bit like a lamb being led to slaughter, but he decided to trust Emily's instincts, for the moment at least. If they were headed for trouble, then he would either have to try to talk them out of it or they would be forced to fight. Either way, Alistair was not going to allow anyone to place them in a dungeon cell to await the executioner's axe while his country was in peril.

It was a long walk from the docks to the door of the Viscount's Keep. As they made their way through the city, many of Kirkwall's citizen's stopped and stared at them. Some even gawked and pointed, murmuring the words _Champion, abomination_, and _murderer _as if they were interchangeable. A few of the angrier denizens actually spit on Emily as she passed by. Alistair took note of several tattered and worn posters nailed to buildings calling for a mass exodus of all Fereldens from the city.

The prince had to admit that he was proud of the way Emily was handling it all. Not once did she cower or hang her head. She remained steadfast and proud no matter what was happening around her. Whether the people of Kirkwall wanted her there or not, it was still her city.

Once inside the Keep, the crowd within parted to let the former Champion and her comrades through. These nobles seemed less inclined to show their former savior the disdain she had been accosted with in the streets. They were led to the guards' base of operations in the east wing before the lieutenant in charge halted their march.

"Wait here" he commanded before walking to the Captain's door. He knocked softly before stepping inside. A few moments later he emerged and stepped away from the entrance. "The Guard Captain will see you now."

Without hesitation, Emily walked into the office as if she had done so a thousand times before with the others following closely behind. Inside, behind a large wooden desk, sat a chair with its back facing them and over the top, a head with thick strawberry blonde hair pulled into a loose ponytail could be seen.

"Shut the door" ordered a rigid but even female voice.

Since Anion was the last one inside the office, he turned and closed the door quietly. It seemed like an eternity that they stood there in silence before the woman in the chair spoke again.

"I never thought I would see the day that you would return to Kirkwall, Hawke. There are a lot of angry people out there who think you betrayed them and they want your blood." She finally turned to them, her face set in stone. "What in the Maker's name are you doing back here?"

Emily's voice was strong and unwavering. "I came for help, Aveline."

Anger flashed in the Guard Captain's green eyes. "And you thought to come here? You should have known that this is the last place to come for help."

"We can argue about it or you can hear me out, Aveline" asserted the mage. "The choice is yours, but it would waste a lot less time if you would just listen. Or is it your plan to arrest me and take me to the Gallows right now?"

The other woman shook her head, her anger deflated. "I am not going to arrest you Hawke. If I was going to do that, I would have to put myself under arrest as well since I was standing right there with you when we fought the templars. The citizens here are demanding retribution for what happened to the Chantry, but since the one responsible is dead, they'll just have to keep pissing and moaning until the Maker's return."

Alistair wondered if Emily was going to tell the Captain that Anders was still alive, but she apparently decided to leave it be. "Aveline, there's someone I think you should meet."

"If you came all this way and put me in hot water with the nobles to ask me to stand witness at your wedding to a new beau, I might have to hurt you Hawke."

The mage chuckled. "No, nothing like that." She then took Alistair's hand and led him forward to stand beside her.

Aveline's green eyes narrowed as she stared at the prince, as if she was recalling a long forgotten memory. "I remember you" she stated in a low voice. "You were with the Grey Wardens at Ostagar. I remember thinking of how much you looked like King Cailan when you passed by."

"That's because Cailan was my half-brother" Alistair informed her.

"He was a good man, and a good king who died entirely too soon."

"That he was" the prince agreed.

"So you are Maric's illegitimate son? The one who was exiled?"

Alistair nodded. "I am."

"Which means that you are the one who is trying to gather an army to take Ferelden back from the Tevinter Imperium." She turned to Emily. "Is that why you're here Hawke? To try to find help for Ferelden?"

"Yes, that's exactly why I'm here. I thought that things in Kirkwall might have settled a bit since the battle. I had hoped that you might be able to spare some of your guards."

"I will always consider myself Ferelden, and I wish I could help you, but I'm afraid you've come at a rather inconvenient time. Kirkwall is still without a viscount so the city guard and the few remaining templars are all that is left to keep order in the city. Although to be honest, the population in Kirkwall has dwindled to next to nothing compared to what it was before you left."

"What do you mean?" inquired Emily.

"Between the Qunari attacks, the destruction of the Chantry and the battle between the templars and mages, many of the people here were killed or ran to get away from the chaos. Within the first couple of months after the battle, the native Kirkwallers started calling for the deportation of all Fereldens within the city. Many of the refugees, even the ones who had become well-established with businesses and homes were driven out. There are only a handful left now. They even tried to oust me, but my guardsmen would not hear of it. If you were to take a walk through Hightown, you would find that most of the manor houses have boarded up windows and doors. And the few remaining nobles just want to squabble over who will take the viscount's seat, which means that it remains empty.

The biggest problem is, the economy has all but dried up now. There is not even enough money to pay the guards' regular salary. Many quit because of it and I can't blame them. They had families to feed and couldn't afford to do so with a cut in pay. The ones that did stay on are simply with me out of a sense of loyalty and duty. And just a week ago, I heard that a couple of Tevinter magisters arrived to negotiate contracts with the nobles to help rebuild the city. They are trying to buy Kirkwall and with the state the city is in, I'm afraid it won't be too difficult a task."

"But don't you see Aveline," Emily implored "that's why you must aid Ferelden. If we don't stop the Imperium, you'll be working for them soon."

The Guard Captain sighed. "I suppose you're right. I'm just not sure how I would convince guardsmen with already empty bellies to fight for another country while their own home lays in ruins."

Fenris, who had quietly been leaning against a wall with crossed arms, stood and approached Aveline. "Then let Hawke do it" he suggested.

"I'm not so sure that would be a good idea, Fenris" the guardswoman argued. "Most of the people here blame Hawke for Kirkwall's troubles…including the guard."

"Then let her remind them of what she did for them" he countered. "If it weren't for Hawke, every person in Kirkwall would either be dead or living in Par Vollen as converts of the Qun right now. She was the one who drove the Qunari away. She was also the one who uncovered Meredith's insanity and she did not battle the templars to free the Circle mages, she fought them because they could not fight against an injustice that was about to be forced upon them. She fought for their lives."

"I'm afraid that most of them won't see it that way, but I suppose there's no real harm in trying."

"Unless they decide to lynch us" Isabela muttered.

Alistair turned to Emily, who appeared to be contemplating Fenris's suggestion. "I think" she began softly "that this goes beyond speaking to just the city guard. I think that all of Kirkwall needs to hear my explanation. They feel that I betrayed them and they need to know the truth."

Isabela shook her head. "Sweetpea, I'm not sure the truth is going to set you free in this situation. In fact, it will more than likely get you thrown in the Gallows, if not outright killed…especially when you come to the part about you know who."

The mage shrugged. "Maybe you're right Isabela, but I can't keep running from this. I did what I thought was right and I stand by those decisions." She turned to the Guard Captain. "Aveline, please put up notices for every citizen in Kirkwall to meet on the steps of the Keep in two nights' time. In the meantime, there are a few things that I need to take care of in the city, if I am free to come and go as I please that is."

"Of course, Hawke" Aveline nodded "but may I suggest wearing cloaks and keeping your movements during the daytime hours to a minimum?…for your protection."

"That probably would be for the best" Emily agreed. "By the way, has anyone taken over my estate in my absence?"

"No, it still stands empty, but it is a little worse for wear. It was thoroughly ransacked during all of the confusion and has been empty ever since minus the occasional vagrant now and again. I finally had it boarded up a few months back to keep anyone from going in and the entrance into the cellar from Darktown was sealed somehow. I'm not sure what happened there, but you're more than welcome to try to get in that way. It would probably be your best option if you can."

Aveline's green eyes went wide in surprise when Emily embraced the other woman in a warm hug. "Thank you, Aveline. You have always been like a big sister to me and I appreciate everything you have done for me."

The captain smiled. "Just watch yourself out there, Hawke."

"I will" Emily promised. She circled to exit the office and turned back just before she reached the door. "Aveline? Who is commanding Kirkwall's templars these days?"

"Cullen took over for Meredith right after the battle" the other woman replied. "Why?"

"I think it's time for me to congratulate the new Knight-Commander on his promotion."

* * *

It was nearing midnight when the small ferry boat landed at the docks of the Gallows. Emily peered up at the tall structure, reminding her of the day she landed in Kirkwall after escaping the Blight. She never really expected to be standing in that spot again, but there she was. The place that was always bustling with activity before, now looked deserted and empty. In fact, when they approached Kirkwall earlier that evening they had to bypass the docks completely after reading a sign that told them no ships were allowed to harbor there. At first they thought that they would have to turn the brig around and head back to Greenvale to walk the entire way to Kirkwall, but they noticed other larger ships at the Lowtown docks.

Emily and her companions made their way to the main gate leading into the courtyard only to find it locked tight. To make matters worse, the sky seemed to open up and rain began to pour down on them.

"It looks like nobody's home" Isabela shouted over the din of the storm. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head. "So can we go now? I never liked this place before. Now it's just creepy."

The night was pitch black and the downpour made it even harder to see anything. Emily thought to take a peek through the bars just once more. Just as she put her face to the metal, lightening flashed causing the entire sky to take on an eerie silver glow. The mage nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw a pair of grey eyes staring into hers from between the slits of a templar's helmet.

"The Gallows are closed until further notice" he bellowed. "Go back to the city."

"I need to see the Knight-Commander" she shouted. "It's important."

"The Knight-Commander does not accept visitors during the day, serah. I'm sure as bloody hell not going to wake him in the middle of the night."

"Please ser," she begged "it's pouring out here. Our boat will be overturned if we try to make it back to Kirkwall right now. At least give us shelter until the storm passes."

His shoulders raised and fell with a visible sigh before he reached for the lever by the gate and quickly began turning it. Once they were standing in the courtyard, he closed it again and turned to Emily. "Fine, you can stay…but only until the storm passes. Follow me."

He led them through another passage off to the left where they passed through another gate and into the inner courtyard. "Careful with your footing on these stairs" he warned as they ascended a set of stone steps. "They get as slippery as a nug's ass when they're wet."

Emily realized that the man's warning held true when her foot tried to slide out from under her halfway up and she had to grab the wall to keep from falling. Once they were inside and out of the rain, the templar led them to a large room that Emily remembered well as it had once been Knight-Commander Meredith's office. The hearth on the far wall held a crackling fire and Emily couldn't help thinking that it was probably the first time the room ever felt cozy.

Gone were the plaques and tapestries that held writings about vigilance and the tenants of the templar order. There were no more swords or shields gracing the walls and the large oil painting of Meredith had disappeared. In its place was a simple canvas depicting the scene of a quiet countryside. The piles of papers that used to litter the desk were also missing, giving way to one neat stack in the corner. Merrill quickly ran to the fireplace and began warming her hands while the others stood in a circle near the door.

"I'll see if I can scrounge up some towels and something for you to wear so you can get out of those wet clothes" the templar told them. He seemed far less gruff now that they were inside. "You're just lucky I happened to be making my rounds or you would have been stuck out there for another couple of hours."

"Thank you, ser" Emily told him as he headed for the door.

"Just don't touch anything" he warned. "The Knight-Commander gets a bit picky when his things get moved around and it'll be my ass on the line if he finds out I let you in here."

"Of course, ser" the mage nodded.

"I'll be back in a few minutes" he informed them before shutting the door behind him.

Once he was gone, Emily removed her hooded cloak and joined Merrill by the fire. She was soaked to the bone and couldn't seem to stop shivering. Within seconds she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her shoulders and a pair of lips kiss the back of her wet head.

"Have I ever told you that you're absolutely gorgeous when you're drenched?" Alistair whispered into her ear.

"Like drowned raccoons do you?" she grinned as she pressed her body closer to his.

She was absolutely amazed at how quickly she warmed with his arms around her. They stood like that for only a few minutes before Emily heard the sound of the door creaking open. She turned her head, expecting to see the templar that brought them in. Instead, she was greeted by the sight of wavy blonde hair on the top of a man's head as he was reading from a piece of parchment in his hand. He shut the door behind him, still unaware of the presence of other people in the room. As he turned the corner of his desk to get to his chair, he looked up and immediately dropped the paper.

"Who are you people?" he demanded. "What are you doing in my office?"

Emily put on her best smile. "Hello Cullen."

"Hawke?" he asked with bewildered surprise before walking quickly toward her and embracing her in a friendly hug and stepping back. "What in the Maker's name are you doing here?"

Alistair scowled at Emily and then the Knight-Commander. Suddenly, his face took on the expression of recognition. "Wait…I know you."

Cullen turned his attention to the prince and shook his head. "I'm sorry…what?"

"I know you" Alistair repeated. "You were at the Tower of Magi in Ferelden when the demons took over. I thought I recognized your name, but it never dawned on me until now."

The templar studied the prince's face for a long moment. Suddenly his cheeks flushed with the pink tinge of embarrassment. "You were the other Grey Warden…the one with Erin."

"Yes" Alistair confirmed. "You were the one stuck in that magical cage outside the Harrowing chamber where we found the First Enchanter."

Cullen cleared his throat. "Yes…well that was a long time ago. A lifetime it seems…but what are you doing here and with Hawke of all people?"

Emily harrumphed. "Is that any way to talk about a friend?"

He chuckled easily. Emily had to admit that she always found the man handsome. They spent a good deal of time conversing together over tea in her estate before Anders moved in. He always maintained the utmost professionalism around others and in public, but when they spent time alone together he was always easy going and actually had a fantastic sense of humor. In fact, before she and Anders began their relationship, she often wondered if she and Cullen might have had a chance together.

He told her once about his feelings for her cousin, before everything literally went to hell at Kinloch Hold. He admitted that he honestly considered leaving the Order after that. He harbored a distrust for mages and he wasn't sure that he would ever be able to look upon them again without disdain. She remembered him thanking her for reminding him that not all mages are evil at heart and, like everyone else in the world, some were good and some were not. Being under Meredith's rule, he had to keep the pretense of mistrust of course, but privately his opinions had changed. The rest of Emily's companions knew that she and Cullen were on good terms, but only her mother and her servants knew how close their friendship actually was.

"I'm sorry Hawke" he apologized "but you have to admit that trouble tends to follow you like a dark cloud looming over your head."

Isabela rolled her eyes. "No shit."

"To be honest, Cullen" she confessed "things haven't really changed."

He sighed. "I figured as much."

The door opened once more and the templar who had led them to Cullen's office emerged carrying several towels and an odd assortment of clothes. "I'm sorry it took so long," he told them without noticing that his commander was in the room "but to be honest there just isn't much here in the way of clothing that's not templar uniforms anymore. I did manage to scrounge up a few mage's robes if you're not too picky about what you're wearing. Other than that, I have a couple of tunics and a few pairs of breeches, but you might have to fight over who gets them."

"Just set them down on my desk, Ranulf" Cullen ordered.

The other man nearly dropped the bundle in his arms. "Knight-Commander…I…I'm sorry, ser. I didn't see you there." He quickly took the items over and sat them upon Cullen's desk. He gulped. "These people…it was raining…and I…"

The commander held up a hand. "It's fine Corporal. I know them. Now if you wouldn't mind, could you please see about getting us some more chairs so everyone can sit down."

The templar lieutenant clapped his fist to his heart. "Right away, Knight-Commander" he called before scurrying from the room.

"He's a good man" Cullen told them, shaking his head. "Just a bit high strung. I don't know why he's so afraid of me."

Emily shrugged. "He said something about you being picky. Besides, I thought being a complete arse was usually a prerequisite of being Knight-Commander."

"Well, I don't think I've quite become a _complete _arse" the templar quipped. "At least not yet, anyway."

The mage couldn't help but giggle at his words which caused Alistair to shoot her a questioning glare. She coughed nervously. "Anyway, Cullen, what's going on here? Why have the Gallows been locked down?"

Before the commander could answer her question, Ranulf appeared through the door carrying two small wooden chairs with several more lined up in the hallway outside. Cullen waited for them all to be brought in and for his guests to be seated before he sat down in his own chair and continued. "After the battle, there were less than two dozen mages left and twelve of those were tranquil. I suppose you could say that I had a crisis of conscience after what I saw, because I made the decision to let them all go. The tranquil, of course, asked to stay because they felt more comfortable here. B  
ut the rest went on to start new lives outside of the Circle."

"So you just let them leave to become apostates?" Alistair asked with confusion.

The templar nodded. "Yes. After what happened in Kirkwall, I figured that the people in the city would be demanding that they be executed or made tranquil. Those mages did nothing to deserve that fate, so I helped them escape during the night. Since then, we few templars that are left have become nothing more than glorified guardsmen since the Guard Captain has lost most of her ranks.

The Divine still hasn't shut the Gallows down and we still receive supplies, including the lyrium we require, so we stay. To be honest, I hardly consider myself a templar anymore and most of my men feel the same way after what happened. Seeing something like that…it can make you a bit…disillusioned. Over the last year, the templars that still felt bound by their duty either put in for transfers to other Circles or went rogue. The ones that remain, like myself, only do so because we know nothing else. Plus, the addiction to lyrium compels us to stay because we want to stave off the madness that comes with trying to live without it. At any rate, this is hardly a functioning Circle anymore, so I see no reason to open the gates for public intrusion."

"So you just intend to stay here and live your life out like this?" Emily questioned. "It all seems rather…sad."

"I suppose I do" he replied. "At least until the Divine decides to send someone in to take over."

"I'm sorry, Cullen" apologized the mage. "I never meant for something like this to happen to you."

He smiled warmly. "There is no need for apologies, Hawke. For the first time since before Uldred's uprising, I actually feel at peace. It does get a bit boring sometimes, but it's nothing I can't handle." After a few moments of silence, Cullen stood. "By the way, I found some things of interest in Orsino's office after the battle. There's something I would like to show you if you don't mind coming with me."

"Of course" Emily replied. As Cullen made his way to the door, she turned to Alistair. "I'll be back in a few moments, love."

The prince nodded with an expression of disappointment before she stood and followed the Knight Commander across the hall. The room that they entered was dark and musty smelling as if no one had even so much as cracked the door in ages. Once Emily was inside, Cullen shut the door behind them and began fumbling around the wall.

"Let me help" the mage offered as she called a small, gold flame to her palm.

He smiled gratefully back at her before locating the lyrium lamp by the door and uncovering it. "There. That lets a little more light in on the subject."

Emily extinguished her magical fire. "So, what was it that you wanted me to see?"

He stood right in front of her and gently took her face in his hands. "This" he whispered just before he pressed his lips to hers. At first, she was simply too stunned by his actions to move. When she came to her senses enough to realize what was happening, she wasn't sure what she should do. She had to admit that the sensation of his lips on hers felt good and despite his being a templar, he was an excellent kisser. When she finally willed herself to pull away, he stared into her eyes for a long moment with a sad smile.

"I would say that I am sorry," he began "but I would be lying if I did. Ever since the first afternoon that I came to your estate for tea, I've wanted to do that. When Anders moved in with you, for the second time in my life I cursed myself for letting my duty as a templar get in the way of what my heart really wanted."

"Cullen…I…"

He shook his head. "You don't have to say anything Hawke. I saw the way that Grey Warden looked at you in my office. It's obvious that you and he are together."

"His name is Alistair."

"Then Alistair is a very lucky man indeed to have your favor. When you left Kirkwall, my biggest regret was never chancing to kiss you and I told myself that if I ever saw you again, I would take that chance. I hope you are not too angry with me."

She smiled. "I could never be angry with you, Cullen. I adore you. You are one of the kindest and sweetest men I have ever known. It's just that…"

"You love this Alistair" he interrupted. "I understand." He flashed a mischievous, boyish grin. "However, if you ever get tired of him…"

She chuckled. "You will be the first person on my list."

He waggled his eyebrows and said, "Well at least I know I'm still in the running," which brought a laugh from both of them. "It's good to hear your laughter again, Hawke. The last time we really spoke, after Anders left you, I was worried about you. You just seemed so heartbroken."

She rolled her eyes to the left and scrunched her nose. "As I recall, you offered to 'break that bastard's sodding nose'."

He sighed. "Sometimes I wish I had...I'm sorry by the way."

"For what?"

"The Captain told me what happened to him. I personally held no love for the man, especially after what he did, but I know you cared for him and I am truly sorry for your loss."

She shrugged. "Everything happens for a reason and I think it is for the best that he is gone. It did hurt to lose him like that, but the wound is healing."

"So, Alistair…he is a good man?"

Emily nodded. "Yes, he is. He is also the reason I came back to Kirkwall."

"Oh?"

"I'm not sure how much you know about what's going on these days."

"You mean besides the trouble brewing between the Chantry and the mages?"

"Have you heard anything about the trouble in Ferelden?" she inquired.

"I've heard that the Tevinter Imperium all but rules the country because Queen Anora essentially sold it to the magisters. I've also heard that the exiled son of Maric is gathering an army to take back his throne. Why? What does that have to do with you?"

"Alistair is Maric's son" she replied. "And I was hoping that you might be willing to join our cause."


	60. Chapter 60

As soon the door to the Knight Commander's office closed behind Emily, Isabela threw off her wet cloak and made a beeline to the desk. "The rest of you can stand around here freezing your asses off in wet clothes, but I'm going to find something dry to wear."

Fenris was right behind her and reached around her side to grab two pairs of breeches. "I refuse to be stuck in a robe and I think Alistair would agree with that sentiment." He threw a pair of the trousers to the prince, but Alistair was so preoccupied with his own thoughts about Emily and Cullen that he let them fall to the floor at his feet.

"Oh…thanks" he said absentmindedly.

Isabela held up one of the long mage's garments and scowled. "So I'm to be stuck with this heavy thing? How do mages even move in these?"

"You could always modify it, emma lath" Merrill suggested.

The pirate smiled. "That's a brilliant idea kitten. Should I fix one up for you too?"

The Dalish girl shook her head. "No thank you. Forgive me for saying so, but being a free mage, I think I'd rather stay in wet clothes than wear one of those things. I wouldn't mind a dry towel though."

"Pass me one too, if you don't mind, please" Anion requested.

Isabela shrugged and tossed a towel to Merrill and then Anion before taking the dagger from her belt. She made quick work of cutting through the material of a dowdy-looking drab gray robe. Once she had cut the neck line into a low v shape, the sleeves were gone and most of the material on the bottom was missing, she held it up and admired her handiwork.

"Much better" she grinned before removing her wet clothes down to her smalls and pulling the newly altered garment over her damp head. Once she wrapped her belt around it, it looked a lot like the white dress she usually favored.

Nadia made similar adjustments to one of the other robes and within a few minutes, those who wanted to change their clothing had finished getting dressed. The two Dalish companions chose to stay in their own clothes as did Varric, opting to simply dry themselves with towels that Ranulf had provided. Isabela and Nadia wore modified mage's robes while Fenris found a pair of dark brown trousers and a loose ivory linen shirt to wear which garnered an approving smile from his lover.

Alistair, however, had not moved from his chair. Instead, he chose to busy himself by glancing between the door and the clock on the mantel. Varric threw a fresh towel onto the prince's lap.

"You should probably dry off before you catch a cold, your Highness. Nothing more embarrassing on a battlefield than a king with a case of the sniffles."

Alistair shook his head as if shaking away his thoughts. "Huh?"

The dwarf grinned and slapped the other man on the back. "Don't worry so much. The only templar Hawke is interested in is you."

"I don't know. That hug seemed pretty friendly, Varric" Isabela goaded.

"Shut up, wench" Fenris snapped before turning his attention to the prince. "Varric is right, mal amica. Hawke and the Knight-Commander have always been on good terms. You might even say they are friends of a sort, but nothing more. You have nothing to worry about."

Alistair wanted to believe his friend, but the things that Cullen said about Erin when they found him trapped in the tower kept running through his mind. The man had admitted to being obsessed with his charge. Not only that, but the way he looked at Emily made it very clear that he saw her as more than just an acquaintance. Why had she requested to go with him alone?

Before he had time to dwell on it anymore, the door opened and Emily reappeared followed closely by the Knight-Commander. She approached Alistair and smiled warmly at him before grabbing the towel from his lap. As she began to dry her still damp hair, Cullen clapped his fist to his heart and gave the prince a small bow.

"Hawke told me your plans, sire" he stated. "And I want you to know that I am with you. I only have eighty-five men under my command here and I know that is not a lot, but I am willing to commit sixty-five to the upcoming battle, including myself. I would send them all, but there are still mages that need to be cared for and the Guard Captain will need a few to stay behind to help the city guard if the need arises."

Alistair stood and offered his hand to the other man, keeping his personal feelings about Cullen and Emily hidden. "I appreciate any assistance you can offer, Knight-Commander, and you templars will be a great help against the Imperial mages."

The templar clasped the prince's forearm and smiled. "Please, call me Cullen."

"Thank you, Cullen. And, please, call me Alistair. Any friend of Emily's is a friend of mine."

The Knight-Commander let go of the prince's arm and nodded. "We can work out all of the details tomorrow, but it has been a rather long day and I'm afraid that I must turn in for the evening. I have an empty bay in the north barracks if you would like to stay here for the night, though."

"That would be lovely, Cullen" Emily told him appreciatively. "Thank you."

"Then I will send Ranulf to take you. Sleep well, my friends." He gave Emily a friendly peck on the cheek and said, "Goodnight, Hawke." before giving a small bow to the others and taking his leave. As soon as the Knight-Commander was clear of the door, Alistair turned to Emily with a frown.

"Don't tell me you're jealous" she chuckled.

Alistair put a hand to his chest and shook his head. "Jealous?...Me?...What could have possibly given you an idea like that?"

"It was probably all of the frowny faces you were making" offered Merrill helpfully.

The prince scowled. "Thanks Merrill."

Emily put a hand to her lover's cheek. "We'll talk about it later, okay?"

"Fine" he sulked.

After Ranulf came back, he led them to a large room filled with empty bunks. While the others began settling in for the night, Emily took Alistair's hand and led him out into the hallway. He fully expected for her to begin berating him for his behavior, but instead, she kissed him.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"To let you know that I love you and that you are the only man that I want. Cullen and I…we became very close in the years between the Deep Roads expedition and when Anders moved into the estate, but we were never lovers. To be honest, I think it was something we both thought about, but with his position in the Order and me being an apostate, it was never a real possibility."

Her words did little to ease the prince's mind. "So what was it that he wanted to show you in Orsino's office?"

"The blood mage that murdered my mother…Cullen found his research papers in Orsino's office. I already knew that the First Enchanter had them because he told me about it right before he turned into an abomination and I killed him."

Alistair, feeling guilty about thinking the worst of her, put his arms around Emily's waist. "I'm sorry, love. That must have been a difficult thing to have to recall."

She shook her head and pulled back slightly. "There's something else…and I want you to know because I don't want to hide anything from you or keep any secrets. Cullen…he kissed me."

The prince dropped his arms to his sides and grimaced. "What do you mean, he kissed you?"

Emily sighed. "Just what I said. He kissed me. It only lasted a moment and I made it perfectly clear to him that you are the one I love. He told me that he understood, but it was something he always wanted to do. I am sorry."

Even though Alistair's stomach was in knots, he couldn't exactly be angry with her for someone else's actions. He did, however, think that he owed the Knight-Commander a bloody nose for it. "Thank you for telling me. Most women would have just kept that to themselves. I appreciate your honesty…Only…let's try to keep the lip-locking between the two of us from now on…please? I would rather keep that as a privilege you grant to only me, if you don't mind."

She chuckled and clasped her hands together behind his neck. "Of course, my love. You are the only man that I want to kiss me." He smiled before pulling her closer and covering her mouth with his.

* * *

After a small breakfast in Cullen's office the next morning, Alistair and the Knight-Commander made their plans for the upcoming battle. On the first of Harvestmere, the templars and whatever guard Aveline could spare would travel by ship to a pirate bay called Blackview Cove, located at the shores at the foot of the Northern Hills. From there, they would meet Teagan's men in the nearby caves to await the battle.

When Emily told Cullen of her plans to speak to the citizens of Kirkwall the next afternoon, he blanched. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea Hawke. They may try to take you before you get the chance to speak."

"I realize that Cullen, but I have to do this. Aveline told me what happened to the Ferelden refugees in the city. The way things stand now, if Kirkwall's templars and guard commit to aiding Ferelden, there is going to be a tremendous backlash. We need the support of the people or it will cause further unrest."

The Knight-Commander sighed. "I suppose you're right, but I insist that you let my men be there for your protection. The templars still hold influence in Kirkwall, so our presence should prevent anyone from starting anything."

"That reminds me, Cullen" Alistair interrupted. "I know that in Ferelden, the Chantry controlled the mages and templars at Kinloch Hold, but the tower and the land itself were still considered to be owned by the government. Is that true for the Gallows as well?"

The templar furrowed his brow. "Since the Gallows is considered part of Kirkwall, it falls under Kirkwall jurisdiction. If the Chantry were to shut it down as a Circle, the city would retain the right of its ownership. Why do you ask?"

The prince shrugged. "Just wondering."

"His highness has another idea" Varric observed. "Unfortunately, he seems to like to keep his plans a surprise to everyone."

Alistair grinned. "It keeps everyone on their toes."

"That it does, my friend" chuckled the dwarf.

Heeding Aveline's advice, Emily and her companions stayed at the Gallows until after the sun had set. They spent the remainder of the day catching up on all of the news of the city and then listening to Varric's embellished adventures of what happened to him and what he had been witness to in the time he was away. Even though Cullen offered to let them stay for another night, Emily decided that it was time to make a trip to her former home. They donned their hooded cloaks and headed back into the city.

When they got to the Darktown entrance into the estate, the mage couldn't help but look to the door of Anders' former clinic. Just like the door leading to her home, she could feel that the clinic's entrance had been magically sealed. Knowing Anders as she did, she removed the emerald ring he had given to her from her pocket and stared at it for a long moment. She turned to Anion.

"That was your father's clinic" she told him, pointing to the door. "I can let you in to look around if you like."

He shook his head. "No thank you, lethallan. I would rather not."

Emily nodded sadly. "I understand."

She then slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand and closed her eyes, calling forth the magic that would allow her to break the seal and gain entrance into the basement of her estate. Anders had taught her that spell many years before, soon after they met. Back then, the key was a gold earring that he had worn when he was still in Ferelden. Since he had to be away from his clinic so often when he traveled with her, he told her that he didn't trust leaving it unguarded. He had laughed and said that the last thing he wanted was to come home from a hard day of fighting abominations just to find templars waiting to take him to the Gallows. He, of course, needed no key to break the spell, and she was the only other person that the enchantment would allow passage to and only if she had the correct object.

As she entered the musty cellar, Emily couldn't help but be reminded of the many times Anders had come through that way during the middle of the night to visit her. Bodahn was always so gracious about being woke during such late hours when the healer would come knocking, never once complaining about the odd hours his mistress's friends kept. She smiled wistfully at the memory of her faithful servant and his son, and wondered how they were getting along in Orlais.

When they reached the door leading into the estate proper, Emily once again used Anders' spell to gain entry and then promptly removed the ring from her hand. She sighed as she considered just chucking it onto the basement floor behind her, but slipped it back into her pocket instead, just in case Anion changed his mind about seeing his father's clinic before they left Kirkwall.

She grabbed the key from atop the wardrobe in the backroom and unlocked the door leading to the back of the kitchen larder. The sight she was greeted with when she stepped out of the pantry and into the room almost made her cry and the smell brought bile to the back of her throat. The remnants of rotten food were scattered all over along with the shattered pieces of what was once her porcelain dishes. Pots and pans were strewn about and every cupboard door was either barely hanging on by a nail or gone completely.

When they entered the main room of the house, they found the grand chandelier smashed to bits on the floor. The room smelled worse than the last because someone had decided to use it as a privy. There were urine stains all over and piles of excrement littered the marble tiles. On the walls, someone had used the dung to write the words _abomination _and _traitor_ among others in large bold letters. The ceiling was blackened from smoke and the remnants of burned books and furniture were piled in the center of the room.

As she ascended the steps that led to the bedrooms, Emily took note of the once grand banister which had been broken to bits, leaving only a few posts stuck into the staircase here and there. Her family's crest lay on the floor in front of her mother's old room, stained with urine. She turned the gold handle leading into Leandra's suite and tears welled in her eyes from the sight of the mess. She bent down and picked up the simple wooden frame that once held a small oil painting of her parents, which Malcolm had commissioned for his new bride right after the couple ran away to Ferelden together.

Fenris, recognizing the frame, put an arm around her shoulder. "I am sorry, mal amica. I cannot fathom what would make people behave in such a way."

"Anger and revenge" Nadia stated solemnly.

"Sodding rotten bastards" Isabela hissed.

The emerald-eyed mage peered up at Alistair, tears trickling down her cheeks. Fenris let go of her just in time for the prince to catch her as she fell against him and buried her face in his chest. He hugged her close and stroked her hair as she allowed herself to break down. After several minutes, she backed away and wiped her eyes with the heel of her right palm.

She sniffed and then let out a long breath to regain her composure. "This was the only picture I had of my parents and I have nothing of Carver or Bethany. Those pictures were all left in Lothering when we ran to get away from the darkspawn." She looked around the room at the chaos once again, before her shoulders drooped. "Everything is gone. Every piece of my childhood…my family…it's all gone."

Alistair took her hand and gave it a light squeeze. "I'm sorry, love."

She drew a deep breath. "No sense in crying over it now, I suppose. There's nothing I can do about it anyway. Just another reminder that my life here in Kirkwall is over."

"Wait," Merrill posed "what about your uncle and your cousin? Don't they still live in Lowtown?"

Emily shook her head sadly. "No, Cullen told me last night that both of their bodies were found in the rubble near the Chantry during the clean-up. I guess my entire family is gone now."

"No they're not, sweetpea" Isabela offered with a smile. "You still have all of us."

"That's right, lethallan" Anion agreed.

"Thank you" she smiled appreciatively before placing her hands on her hips. "Well, I don't see any sense in hanging around here any longer than we have to. Let's get to my room and find the coin I stashed there and then get the rest from the basement."

Without another word, Emily pivoted on her heel and made her way to her room. She was surprised to find that it wasn't as bad as the others. It looked like someone had actually tried to clear away most of the mess. _Anders, _she thought. He must have straightened it as best as he could when he came back. She quickly found the panel in the back of the large wardrobe that was attached to the wall and removed the enchantment she had placed on it. After she retrieved three large sacks of gold, she circled to leave. Her stomach lurched as her eyes made contact with the bed she had spent so many nights lying awake upon worrying about the healer and wondering why he walked out on her the way he did. Then she caught herself smiling at the memory of all of the nights Anders had to scold her faithful Mabari, Jack, for jumping up on the bed in an attempt to sleep between them. She exhaled gloomily. Her father gave Jack to her for her sixteenth birthday and she missed that damned dog, but he was killed by one of the abominations when they were on their way to the Gallows to fight Meredith.

"Bad memories?" Alistair whispered in her ear.

She shrugged. "I was just thinking about Jack."

He placed his hand on the back of her head and brought it toward him before gently kissing the top. "Are you ready to get out of here?"

"Absolutely" she nodded.

She led them to the basement where she uncovered six more hiding spots and gathered all of the coin from them. She divided the bags among her friends and told them that they needed to take them back to the ship. Once on board, she stashed the gold in a large hidden hold that Isabela showed her in the captain's quarters. She trusted her friends of course, but she refused to leave that much money where anyone could sneak aboard the ship and take it. She sealed the door with an enchantment, weaving an exception for Merrill to open it in case something went wrong. The Dalish woman was surprised that her friend chose to trust her with something so important when Emily brought her in to teach her the spell.

"You are like a sister to me Merrill" Emily said as she presented a small silver locket to the elf. "I would trust you with my life." She fastened the clasp behind Merrill's neck and smiled wistfully. "That belonged to Bethany. I found it with some of the coin from the basement. I guess mother must have snuck it in before I hid it away."

Merrill's eyes went wide. "Oh, Hawke…are you sure about this? I mean, you know how scatterbrained I can be at times. I would feel just awful if I lost it."

"That is the key to getting into the hold" the other mage informed her. "I know you will take good care of it, Merrill."

"Of course I will" the Dalish girl nodded. "And I'll return it to you whenever you want."

Emily waggled her head. "No, lethallan. I want you to keep it. So no matter what happens, you'll always remember me."

Merrill threw her arms around her friend. "Don't talk like that, Hawke. Nothing's going to happen to you, and I could never forget you. I consider you a sister as well."

Emily chuckled. "Alright, but I want you to have it just the same."

Shortly after Merrill left the room, Alistair entered and he and Emily began getting ready for bed. She was tired from the events of the day, not to mention the emotional strain that seeing her home in such disarray and being faced with so many memories had put on her. After saying their goodnights, Emily snuggled up to Alistair's chest and drifted off into an uneasy sleep. Her dreams were haunted by the memories of her family and Anders along with images of her decimated home.

Sometime in the middle of the night, she awoke in a sheen of cold sweat. She had just gotten up to get a drink of water, when she heard a knock. She quickly donned one of Alistair's long black shirts and answered the door. She was greeted by Anion standing there with an apologetic smile, reminding her so much of his father when Anders would visit at all hours of the night.

"Anion? Is something wrong?" she inquired.

He shook his head and swallowed. "Not really…I…I was just thinking about what you asked me earlier. I know it's late, but I'm afraid I won't get another chance before we leave Kirkwall. I would like to see my father's clinic…If you wouldn't mind."

Emily smiled. "Of course, sweetie. Just give me a moment to get dressed."

She shut the door and quickly pulled on her breeches, boots and hooded cloak, not even bothering with her breast band, then grabbed her staff. When she emerged from the cabin, Anion apologized again before thanking her for her understanding. They quietly crept off the ship and onto the docks then headed for the entrance of Darktown.

Surprisingly, they didn't run into any trouble, but Emily made quick work of opening the door just in case they were followed. Once inside the clinic, she shut the door behind her and watched Anion as he looked around. The room really looked no different than it had the first time she had seen it. There were a few less cots, but otherwise it was unscathed.

The young healer didn't say a word as he moved through the room and Emily began to feel as if she was intruding on his solitude. As Anion explored the back room where Anders had slept, Emily spotted the healer's desk pushed against one of the support beams and absentmindedly walked over to it. She knelt down and reached her hand beneath the middle of the piece of furniture and began to feel around until she found a notch. After pulling down on the wood and finding a hasp, she unlatched it, causing the bottom to fall open and spill its contents onto the floor.

Among the trove there was a hand-embroidered pillow, a Tevinter Chantry amulet, a gold earring, a bottle of Emily's favorite perfume, a journal and two rolled up pieces of parchment. Emily thumbed through the journal and sighed. It was filled with poems that Anders had written to her and about her. He had recited a few to her on occasion, but she had no idea that he had written so many. It was a painful reminder of the life they had shared together and how things went so horribly wrong.

She sat the book aside and unrolled one of the scrolls.

_My dearest Emily,_

_I knew that you would be headed to Kirkwall and I hope that this letter finds you well. When I found that my seal was still intact on both the clinic and your estate, I figured that your journey had not yet brought you here, and I hope and pray that you receive this. Once again, I wanted to tell you that I am truly sorry for how everything turned out. Once again, I asked you to be my wife and once again I walked out on you. It was never my intention to hurt you, my love, and the knowledge that I did will pain me until my death. _

_I have come to the decision to return to Ferelden and seek out the mage Avernus at Soldier's Peak. I am hoping that he can help me find a way to separate Justice and myself. Unfortunately, it will probably cost me my life, but at this point, without you, my life has become meaningless and empty. I would welcome death and it is no less than I deserve for the things I have done. I have been selfish and undeserving of your love and we both know the truth of that._

_I also wanted to give you some advice, as a friend, if you are willing to accept it from me. It is obvious to anyone, including myself, how you and Alistair feel about each other. I know that you tried to shelter me from it, but I am not blind. At any rate, my advice is this: Take the chance. No matter how it turns out in the end, the time you are able to spend together is well worth it. I spent entirely too many years pushing you away because of fear and it saddens me to think that I could have spent that much more time with you, before everything went wrong. Don't make the mistake that I did, Emily. Don't let the fear of being hurt keep you from happiness. I believe that Alistair is a good man, a much better man than I, and if he truly loves you the way I think he does, you can find a way to be together. Stranger things have happened._

_In closing, I want you to know that it has been both my honor and privilege to have known you and to have shared my life with you. You will always be the best thing that has ever happened to my life and I will never forget you. Good luck on your journey and with the upcoming battle. I have faith that you will succeed and be victorious._

_With all my love,_

_Anders _

_PS-I have left another scroll that I wrote for Anion. I know he is probably angry with me, but will you please make sure that he gets it?_

"Is that from him?" Anion asked quietly once he noticed that Emily had stopped reading.

"Yes" she nodded. She reached into the pile and handed the other scroll to the younger mage.

His brow creased together in confusion as he unrolled the parchment and began to read. As Anion perused the letter from his father, tears began to fall from his eyes. When he finished, he silently rolled it back up and wiped his cheeks.

"Thank you" he whispered "for bringing me here. I was so angry with him for leaving the way he did. I probably would have gone with him, if he had asked…but the madness…he is afraid that it has taken a toll on him and he didn't want to hurt anyone else that he loved. He says that he is going to Ferelden…to die."

"His letter to me said much the same thing" Emily told him before standing and gathering him into her arms. He began to weep in earnest against her shoulder as he held on for dear life. She had no idea how long they remained like that, but it was a good long while. It didn't matter though, she planned to stay there as long as he needed her. When Anion finally pulled away from her, she brushed the stray tendrils away from his forehead, just as she had done for his father a hundred times.

"I'm sorry" he said with a sad smile.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Anion" she assured him. "No matter what he did, I still cared for your father and I mourn his loss as well. He was a very special part of my life for a long time. I'm not going to forget that simply because I am moving on with my life. He will always hold a special place in my heart."

She bent down and gathered the rest of the things from the floor. She placed the perfume bottle into her pocket before handing the rest to the healer one at a time. "Here, I want you to take these. This pillow, it was the one your grandmother embroidered for your father and this is his earring. The amulet, I gave to him as a gift and this journal…" She lovingly ran her hand across the cover before turning it over to him. "Whenever you begin to think ill of Anders, open this and read a page or two. They are all poems that he wrote. There is even one in there that he wrote for our unborn child, about being a father…but I think you will find that it holds true for you as well."

Anion opened the book and scanned through a few of the pages before shaking his head. "But Hawke, some of these are very personal."

She smiled. "I know. I want you to see your father's capacity for love not just what went wrong between us. Please…you are the only other person in the world that would appreciate them. Anders' writing is a thing of beauty, much like a fine painting. I would hate to see it go to waste."

"Okay, lethallan. If that is truly what you wish."

By the time they returned to the ship, the sun was beginning to cast its glow over the horizon. Anion headed back below deck in an attempt to get some much needed sleep, but instead of returning to bed, Emily chose to crawl out onto the bowsprit and watch the sunrise. She marveled at the colors and the beauty of the world waking to a new day. It wasn't until she heard the dockworkers beginning their day's labor that she finally returned to the captain's quarters. She undressed as quietly as possible, so as not to disturb her lover and slipped into bed next to him. As she pressed her body to Alistair's, Emily finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	61. Chapter 61

When Emily finally awoke, her bleary vision told her that it was nearly noon. She began rubbing her eyes before she realized that she was alone in the room. She supposed that Alistair must have gotten up earlier to get some breakfast. Her own stomach turned when it occurred to her that she only had a few hours left before she would face the crowd on the steps of the Viscount's Keep. She wasn't even sure what she was going to say to the people of Kirkwall, but she hoped that she would be able to come up with the right words to appease their anger.

Emily laid there for several more minutes before finally deciding to get out of bed. She quickly washed herself and dressed to get ready for the day. She was just running a brush through her damp hair, when she heard the turning of the door handle. Alistair appeared a few seconds later and she smiled brightly at him.

"Good morning, love" she said.

The prince wore an odd expression as he stared at her for a few moments. "It's nice to see you finally decided to rejoin the land of the living."

His tone and demeanor were a bit off-putting and she furrowed her brow with confusion. "I'm sorry. I guess I was tired."

"Yes, I suppose that happens when you get up in the middle of the night and don't return to bed until after sunrise" he huffed.

_So that's it, _Emily thought. She sighed with an understanding smile. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Anion came in the middle of the night asking me to take him to his father's clinic. He was afraid he wouldn't get another chance."

Alistair closed his eyes and began rubbing his forehead. "Look, I know you are your own person and a grown woman, but I would just appreciate it if you would leave me a note or something when you're going to just take off like that." When he finally looked at her again, he shook his head with a forlorn expression. "You wouldn't believe the thoughts that ran through my head, especially after what you told me about Cullen. I'm trying to be understanding, here, but sweetheart…I'm still a man and like it or not, I tend to think like a man. I'm sorry for being jealous, but…I trust you Emily, I really do." He moaned with frustration. "I'm sorry. I feel like such an ass now."

She chuckled as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "You're not an ass, Alistair. And I am the one who should apologize. I guess I never really thought about it when I left last night. Forgive me?"

He rubbed the tip of her nose with his. "I would forgive you anything, my dear. You need only ask." He stepped back and walked toward the door to retrieve a large package wrapped in brown paper and string with a small note attached.

"What's this?" asked the mage.

"One of Cullen's men delivered it this morning for you."

Emily removed the note and unfolded it.

_Hawke,_

_Considering your plans for today, I thought you might want these. I retrieved them from a group of thieves who were looting your house the night of the battle. I am only sorry that I couldn't find more. _

_I will send an escort for you at three o'clock. Please make sure that you and your friends are ready._

_Warmest regards,_

_Cullen_

She frowned, curious as to what was inside the paper. The first thing she saw was a sealed envelope atop her favorite red and gold silk finery. After breaking the seal, she looked inside and found an ornate silver band with three small rubies across the top. A tear trickled down her cheek.

"What's wrong, my love?" Alistair asked with concern.

Emily removed the piece of jewelry from the envelope and held it up for him to see. "This ring…it was my mother's wedding ring." She swallowed back the lump that had formed in her throat. "I thought I had lost it."

The prince reached behind his neck and quickly undid the clasp of a silver chain that he always wore. Dangling from the end was a symbol of Andraste that looked as if it had once been broken and subsequently repaired. He took the ring from her hand and put the chain through it, letting it slide down until it was against the amulet. Then he put it around her neck and refastened the catch. She ran her fingers across the chain and peered up at him with curiosity dancing in her emerald eyes.

He smiled as he thumbed the amulet. "I have been thinking of giving you this for quite some time. It was the only thing that Silas left me with when he stripped me down and threw me on board the ship. It is also the only thing I have of my mother's. I want you to have it, Emily."

"Alistair, I can't…"

"Please take it…as a symbol of my love."

She sighed then nodded. "Okay…if you're sure."

"I am" he smiled. "Now, let's see what else you have in there."

Emily kissed him on the cheek before removing the finery from the paper. Beneath that was a complete set of armor that she was very familiar with. She grinned widely as she pulled it from its wrapping and held it out in front of her.

"Nice armor, love. That must have set you back some coin."

"Actually, it didn't cost me a copper" she informed him. "The nobles of the city had this commissioned for me when I was named Champion. I can't believe Cullen found it."

"So I take it that you intend to wear it this afternoon?" he inquired.

"I think it might help to serve as a reminder to the people of Kirkwall…and I think I finally figured out what I'm going to say."

The prince flashed a crooked grin. "I actually have some thoughts on that as well, if you wouldn't mind indulging me."

"I'm all ears."

At three o'clock exactly, a squad of ten templars stopped their march in front of the gangplank of the _Siren's Call_ before forming two lines of five on either side. When Emily, followed by her companions, stepped off the ship, they were greeted by Knight-Corporal Ranulf. He gave a small bow of his head.

"Champion, the Knight-Commander sent us to accompany you to the Viscount's Keep."

The mage lifted the hood of her cloak over her head before returning the man's bow. "Thank you, ser."

"The Commander suggested that I lead the procession, followed immediately by you, then the rest of your party and Knight-Corporal Brody will bring up the rear. The rest of the men will flank your sides. Although the Knight-Commander said it was entirely up to you."

Emily gave a solemn nod. "That would be fine Knight-Corporal."

On her word, Ranulf ordered his men out. As they stepped away from the docks, Emily's companions pulled their hoods over their faces just as she had. She wondered what anyone who happened upon them would think when they spotted ten templars surrounding eight strangers in black hooded cloaks walking through the city. Then again, with the things the citizens of Kirkwall had seen over the years, they probably wouldn't think it so strange. Either way, she didn't see their reaction, as she chose to keep her eyes forward and focused on the back of Ranulf's head.

The templars stayed outside while Emily and her friends entered the Keep. Fortunately, Aveline had cleared everyone but the guard out of the building so they had a moderate amount of privacy until four o'clock when the Champion was supposed to address the people on the steps. Right after Emily and the others removed their cloaks, Cullen appeared from the guard post in the east wing followed closely by the Guard Captain. The Knight-Commander received a lot of wary looks from the guardsmen when he approached Emily and greeted her with a warm hug, but he didn't seem to notice.

"It's good to see you again, Hawke. I will admit that I was a bit worried for you when you left the Gallows yesterday evening. It has been awhile since I have entered the city myself. I had no idea just how bad things had gotten in Kirkwall."

"Hopefully things will be better after today" she smiled.

"Maker, I hope you know what you're doing" he confessed. "I wouldn't want to face those people in your position right now."

"I'll be fine" she assured him.

"At any rate, I sent for the rest of my men…just in case. They should be arriving any time now."

"Thank you, Cullen. I can't tell you what it means to me to have you on my side."

"If this goes badly, my men and I may be joining you sooner than we expected. I hope your ship has room for eighty-five more" he laughed.

"We can always put some of you up in the dinghies I suppose."

"I only hope none of my men suffer from seasickness, swaying around in tied up rowboats that way" he jested. "Otherwise that could make for a really long trip."

"Just make sure you assign a bucket to each of them. That should take care of it."

The mage and the templar leader continued their banter for a few more minutes before Cullen excused himself to check on his soldiers outside, leaving Emily to mentally prepare herself for the task ahead. As the hour approached, she found herself becoming more nervous by the minute. Alistair must have sensed her trepidation because he took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Don't worry, my love" he whispered in her ear. "It's a good plan. If these people have any sense at all they will see the benefit of it."

She scowled. "That's what I'm worried about. Kirkwall isn't exactly known for its sanity."

Ten minutes before the hour, Aveline ordered her guardsmen to line up into three squads before her husband Donnic led them out. When the large clock in the entry hall of the Keep struck four, Emily let out a long slow breath and straightened her armor. She could hear the crowd gathered outside growing impatient and she squeezed Alistair's hand one last time for good measure before approaching the door. Aveline breezed past her.

"Let me go first, Hawke" she insisted. "Cullen will announce you then you will follow me out."

The mage bobbed her head, not daring to speak in case the bile in her throat preceded her words. Aveline cracked the door just enough for her to be able to see what was happening on the other side. Silence suddenly filled the air and Emily knew that the Knight-Commander was about to address the crowd.

"Good people of Kirkwall," he began "I know that the last year has not been an easy one here in the city. Many things have happened that have caused confusion and chaos among you and have left you with a lot of questions with little to no answers. You have been assembled here this afternoon in an effort to finally clear the air and give you an explanation of the tragic events that occurred at the end of last year. I pray that you listen and take heed to those who will be speaking to you today so that your fears and anger may finally be put to rest.

With that said, I would like to present to you someone you are all very familiar with. Regardless of your personal feelings, I beg you to hear her out before you pass your final judgment. Give her the chance to explain the truth so that you may have a better understanding as to why she acted in the way that she did…Citizens of Kirkwall…I give you your Champion…Hawke."

Loud murmuring broke out among the throng until Aveline stepped out of the door and stared everyone in her sight down with an authoritative glare. When she stepped to the side, Emily moved forward to the top step and all of her traveling companions minus Alistair made a half circle to her sides and back.

She drew a deep breath before commencing with her speech. "Nearly ten years ago, like so many other Fereldens, my family came to this city to escape the Blight. We chose Kirkwall because of our ties here. Many of you knew my mother, Leandra Amell as well as her parents and extended family because they held great influence in the city for many generations. However, when we arrived, things had changed.

Like the rest of you, I worked and fought to earn my living here. Nothing was handed to me, but even when I was a poor refugee living in my uncle's hovel in Lowtown, I still lent a helping hand to others in need when I could. In doing so, I made many friends, as well as many enemies, but I always did what I thought was right. After my expedition into the Deep Roads, I was able to buy my family's estate back, but I never forgot my roots or my friends and I worked even harder to help those less fortunate than myself.

When unrest began to grow between Kirkwall and the Qunari, I tried my best to keep the peace. It made little difference in the end when the Arishok moved to attack, though and many good people lost their lives that day. When the Arishok began dragging citizens through the streets to make them bow to the will of the Qun, I fought my way through the city to rescue as many of you as I could. I faced the Arishok alone, defeating him in single combat thereby driving the Qunari from the city and I did so with no thought of personal gain. I did it because it was the only thing I could do. I did it to help the helpless.

You named me your Champion then and hailed me as a hero, and I appreciated your accolades, but they were unnecessary because I would have done the same without a word of thanks or praise…because it was the right thing to do. And after I was lauded, I still continued to work, giving aid to those in need.

When unrest grew between the mages and the templars, I gave my honest opinion on the situation when asked, but I still tried to act as a peacekeeper. I worked with both Meredith and Orsino to try to prevent things from getting worse. Even though I am a mage, when the Divine sent an agent to find out what was going on in Kirkwall, I worked with her as best I could to try to prevent the Chantry sending troops in and starting a war.

Then, when the Chantry was destroyed, I again stood up for what I felt was right. Knight-Commander Meredith immediately called for the Right of Annulment to kill all of the mages of the Circle because of the deed of an apostate who acted alone. I know he acted alone because he was my betrothed, although I had no knowledge or inclination of what he had planned. He was a very disturbed and disillusioned man who was desperate to act against Meredith's tyranny.

I spared his life that day, but who among you could take the life of a loved one no matter what they had done. I refused to pass a death sentence on a man that I loved, choosing instead to let the Maker be his judge. If Meredith had chosen to execute the apostate for what he had done, I would have bowed to her decision and not fought her for it. Instead she chose to punish the innocent and ignore the guilty. I could not stand idly by and watch that sort of injustice happen, so I fought for the helpless as I always have.

In the end, it turned out that Meredith was under the influence of an idol made from pure lyrium, as powerful as any demon I have encountered. Because of that influence, she even turned against her own templars, seeing evil in everyone and everything around her. She had to be stopped, for the good of everyone.

I do not regret my decisions and I stand by my actions. I hope that you can see the wisdom in what I have done and forgive any wrongs you feel that I have forced upon you. However, I have seen the devastation these things have wrought and no words, no matter how heartfelt or eloquent, can fill hungry bellies or shod bare feet. It is my wish to help the people here to find their way and make Kirkwall the great city it once was.

With your leave, I would like to introduce you to someone whom I think can help you. A man who can bring back prosperity and hope to the people of this city." She stood aside, turned to the door and gave a bow. "I give you Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden."

At Emily's words, murmuring began to flow among the crowd again until the doors parted and Alistair strode out. He stepped forward, dressed from boot to neck in black leather, wordlessly commanding silence from all who observed him. His audience was captivated by his intense hazel eyes as they moved through the assembly.

His voice rang out through the air with the clarity and power of a king, cutting the silence. "I have heard some troubling things since I came to this city. I have heard that Kirkwall has been visited by several Tevinter magisters over the past few months. The Imperials have promised protection and coin in exchange for property and your loyalty. In your city's current state, I am sure that their offers have been tempting, but I tell you now my friends, it is a trap.

I know this to be true because my own country has fallen into that very trap. The promise of power and wealth lured Ferelden's queen into a web of lies and she responded by handing over the homeland of Andraste herself to the Imperium to rule. Now the magisters seek to conquer Kirkwall as well. Not by war or the shedding of blood, but by deceit of the desperate. Just as they did in my country, they will take the noble houses and kill or send into exile any who stand in their way.

My own crown was given to the false queen by one of their servants and after seeing all that has befallen my country it is my aim to take back that which is rightfully mine. But I cannot do this alone, my friends. I have come here seeking the aid of your people to help me drive the wolves back into the northern lands where they belong. On the Eve of Satinalia, my armies will march on the city of Denerim to free my people from Imperial tyranny.

I do not expect you to volunteer your families to serve in a fight you have no stake in, however. I make a proposal that will be of mutual benefit to both of our lands. When this battle is over, Denerim will need to be rebuilt. It is my plan to rebuild the capital city to make it even better than it was before. To do that, I will need fine stone and I know that the mountains outside of Kirkwall hold the finest jet stone in all of Thedas. Reopening the mines will bring employment to those who have lost their stations which will bring revenue back into the city. In order to transport the stone, ships will need to be built, which will give more opportunity for employment.

I would also like the Gallows reopened, but not as a Circle. What I propose is making it a Ferelden stronghold so that your city will be protected from any invaders. My country will buy the land and my troops will be stationed there for your safety while Kirkwall retains the right to govern itself as a free land as its people see fit. These soldiers will be paid by my government directly and will cost you nothing to maintain, but the influx of these men and women along with their families will bring new commerce to the city.

But I cannot do this alone. I need valiant men and women to fight at my side to make this dream a reality and because it is right and it is just. I urge you to consider my proposal carefully and ask yourselves…do you want to live under Tevinter rule and all that means or do you want to live as free men as your ancestors did, as you have a right to?"

With that, Alistair took a step back and then silently turned and walked back into the Keep leaving the people of Kirkwall to decide their fate and his.


	62. Chapter 62

Within minutes after Emily and the others followed the prince into the Keep, the crowd outside began to disperse. Alistair was just beginning to wonder if his words fell upon deaf ears, when people began drifting in. One man, who looked to be in his late teens approached the prince and took a knee before him, bowing low.

"Your m…majesty" he stammered. "I w…would like to volunteer to fight for you."

Alistair smiled. "Please stand." Once the boy was back on his feet, the future king scrutinized him for a few moments. "How old are you son?"

"I am seventeen, sire" the younger man replied. "Nearly eighteen."

Emily interrupted their conversation. "Your name is Walter isn't it?"

"Y…yes" he stuttered.

"I remember you. You came from Ferelden with a group of children. There was another boy, you called him Cricket if I recall."

"Yes messere" he nodded. "He left with his new family after what happened to the Chantry. I stayed behind to continue taking care of the rest of the children who couldn't find homes. Most of them are gone now too, though."

Emily turned to Alistair. "Walter is a very brave young man and has a very good protective instinct. I am sure that you could find a place for him among your army, sire."

The prince flashed a crooked smile at the way she addressed him. "Of course, Serah Hawke. I think that is an excellent idea."

A young woman nearby raised her hand. "I would like to volunteer as well, your Majesty. My father and older sister fought with King Calian at Ostagar. I would be proud to serve in your army."

Several others raised their hands as well and it was beginning to become difficult to remember them all. Alistair felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Perhaps His Majesty would like for me to set up a recruitment table to begin a formal enlistment?" suggested Cullen.

"That is an excellent idea Knight-Commander" the prince replied gratefully.

Cullen addressed two of his nearby men. "Find a long table, three to four chairs, several rolls of blank parchment, quills and inkwells." He pointed to the area between the two stairways leading up from the main floor. "Set it up over there." He then circled to speak to Alistair once again. "As soon as my men return and we have everything ready, we will begin."

The future king gave a small nod of his head. "Thank you Knight Commander."

A man looking to be in his early thirties and dressed in shabby attire approached Alistair with a bow. "Ser, I am a citizen of Kirkwall as my father was and his father before him. Your plans for our city sound good, but what are we to do in the meantime? I would even be willing to fight if it would mean helping Kirkwall, but I have a family that needs to be fed. If we volunteer to join your army, will we be paid for our service?"

That was something the prince hadn't thought of. He wouldn't be able to pay the men and women who enlisted, at least not until after the battle. How many would back out because of that? He opened his mouth to give the other man the unfortunate news, when Emily stepped in.

"Of course you will be paid, serah" she told him "Upon joining, enlistees will receive one gold sovereign immediately and one more the day the ships depart, provided they are present and accounted for. After the battle, each soldier will receive two more sovereigns and in the unfortunate event of death in battle, their families will receive their stipend."

Alistair arched a brow at her, but did not argue. The man with the questions nodded and smiled. "Two sovereigns is more coin than my family has seen in months. I will gladly join you if it means that my family can eat again without resorting to digging through rubbish bins behind the tavern." He bowed to the prince and then to Emily. "Thank you, your Majesty…thank you Champion." He then turned and walked quickly back to a group of men who obviously had the same question and they began talking excitedly.

"How in the Maker's name do you plan to pull that off?" Alistair asked in a low voice from the corner of his mouth.

"With several sacks of gold that are presently aboard Isabela's ship" she whispered back. She looked around the room for a few moments until she spotted Aveline. "I will be back shortly, love. Don't let Cullen begin the enlistments until I return."

Within minutes, the mage was headed out the door with five guardsmen, Fenris, Nadia and Isabela in tow. While she was gone, Alistair continued to field more questions from the denizens of Kirkwall. Several nobles came to speak to him as well, asking him to further explain his economic plans and to elaborate on his agenda for the Gallows.

It was nearly an hour before Emily returned with her pack strapped to her shoulder. She flashed a smile in Alistair's direction before heading over to the newly set up table to speak to Cullen. The handful of volunteers waiting to sign their names to the enlistment documents had grown to the point that there were men and women lined up outside the Keep to register.

By the time he finally closed down for the evening, the Knight-Commander had a list of three hundred and twenty-eight names of eligible soldiers. To those who were not eligible due to age or obvious medical condition, Emily gave ten silvers for their time. The nearly eighteen sovereigns it cost her to do so was worth it to help those who were willing to fight, but were otherwise unable.

After the outer doors to the Keep were closed, Emily counted out another three hundred twenty-eight sovereigns for Cullen to give to the soldiers the day of their departure and another five hundred for weapons, gear and supplies. As Alistair watched her dole out her coin, he shook his head with amazement.

"Where in the Maker's name did she get all of that?" he mused aloud.

Varric, who was standing nearby, chuckled. "On top of being beautiful and fearless, our illustrious leader also happens to be a very shrewd businesswoman. After she bought back her family's estate, she made a few very wise investments, with the help of yours truly of course. I always use to razz her about not keeping her coin in the bank, but I guess she knew what she was doing."

The prince smiled. "She is an amazing woman."

The dwarf slapped him on the back. "That she is, your Highness…that she is."

When Emily finally made her way over to Alistair, she looked completely exhausted. "Everything has been arranged" she told him. "Cullen and Aveline will be training the new recruits and since they will be fighting a lot of mages, Cullen even agreed to give them templar training to better resist magic…without the lyrium of course. I also signed over the deed to my estate to Aveline so she could sell it if they happen to need more coin. So I guess we're ready to leave Kirkwall whenever you are."

The prince frowned with concern. "Are you sure about that, love? Selling your estate I mean?"

She shrugged. "It's fine. Too many bad memories for me to ever want to live there again anyway. Besides, I was thinking that when this is over, I might settle down in Ferelden…there's someone there that I wouldn't mind living nearer to."

Alistair took her face in his hands and nuzzled her nose. "I think that someone would really like that."

She smiled. "So are you ready to get out of here? We still have quite a journey ahead of us."

After saying their goodbyes to Aveline and Cullen, the eight companions boarded the _Siren's Call _and set a course for Ostwick. Three nights later they found themselves at the docks of the small city. The Teyrn there had already heard of Alistair's mission from Sebastian Vael and volunteered one hundred soldiers in exchange for the future king's promise for protection against the Imperium. After working out the arrangements and asking a few questions at one of the local taverns, they headed inland on foot to find the dwarf that Anders had referred them to.

Just as Anders had described, they found that Dworkin was a very odd little man who had grown quite paranoid in the years since he had been in Amaranthine. In fact, it took very little convincing for the dwarf to agree to join them in exchange for their protection from the dreaded Qunari. The only thing Alistair asked of him was that he not perform his "experiments" on the ship and stick to a formula that he already knew when the time came. The smaller man groused a bit, but begrudgingly gave his oath to do the prince's bidding.

It was another two weeks after returning to the ship before they finally reached the waters outside of Antiva City. Alistair noticed that Emily had become increasingly nervous about that particular leg of their trip by the day so that by the time they were ready to dock, she was on pins and needles.

"What's wrong, my love?" He finally asked.

She scowled. "I'm just not sure this is a good idea. You and I have both had contracts put out on us and I personally have killed a few members of the Crows who have come after me. What's to say that they won't just try to take us down before we even get to speak to them? With what we are doing…I'm just worried for you. Morrigan or the Tevinters may have already taken a contract out on you."

Alistair shook his head. "I know Morrigan. It's not her style. She's too proud and too cocky to let someone else do her dirty work. I'm sure she is dreaming of the day she gets to look into my eyes as she tortures me to death. And if any contract on you still stood, I'm sure we would have seen at least one Crow by now. It's not as if we've been exactly subtle about what we are doing."

Emily sighed before giving a resigned smile. "I suppose you are right. Being in a city full of the best assassins in Thedas is just a bit off-putting."

He caressed her cheek with his thumb. "I can understand that, but we'll be fine."

"So…what's the plan?" she asked after a few minutes.

"We need to get their Guildmaster on the ship so we can make the necessary arrangements." He told her.

"And just how do you plan to do that?"

The prince flashed a crooked grin. "With the help of our resident raider, of course."

* * *

Isabela carefully made her way down the darkened streets dressed in a black cloak with the hood pulled low over her face. Every shadow between the large buildings that surrounded her held danger. In Antiva City at night there was no end to the number of thugs and miscreants who would attack a lone stranger for a couple of coppers, especially in that part of the capital. Every footstep, every hiss of a stray, every little noise no matter how slight, put her on edge.

_Why in Andraste's ass did I let that bastard talk me into to this? _she thought with a grimace. _And especially alone. You know better than this Isabela. Are you trying to get yourself killed?_

Alistair did have a point, however. Although there was safety in numbers, there was no way she would be able to get anywhere near Isidro if she had a whole crowd of people with her. She had gotten the new guildmaster's name from one of the dockworkers when her ship made port and it only cost her a sovereign for the information. She only hoped that Isidro was as "friendly" as Salvatore had been. If Isidro was of the same orientation that the guildmaster before Salvatore had been, she might be in trouble.

Near the end of the street which concluded into a small pier, the pirate captain skirted down an alleyway to the door of a small, seedy looking tavern. On the frame was the small red and black symbol she was knew would be there. She knocked three times and waited. A thin panel in the center of the wood slid open, revealing a pair of dark eyes.

" In inverno il corvo vola nord" she whispered hoarsely and the panel quickly shut.

_Balls, I hope that was the right password._

She drummed her fingers across the long-handle of the dagger at her belt that was hidden beneath her cloak as she heard the clicking of locks. _They may take me down, but not without a fight_, she told herself. After what seemed like a lifetime, the door finally opened, revealing a dark-haired elf with almost black eyes bearing the fresh scar of a recent battle across his right cheek. Without a word, he stepped aside for the pirate to enter. The room she walked into was completely empty, save the guard at the door and the surly looking bartender who was absentmindedly wiping down the counter while staring Isabela down with his one grey eye.

The muffled sound of music and laughter could be heard through the wall behind the bar and Isabela headed toward it. As she walked to the side of the long wooden counter, the one-eyed man put a large hand to her chest to stop her.

"No one gets past me without having a drink first" he bellowed.

The pirate threw back her hood and scowled. "I'd rather not wake up at the docks in my small clothes, if it's all the same to you, Nevio…at least not without having a good time first."

The man gave a wide toothless grin. "Isabela! It's been a mabari's age since I've seen_ you_ in here. Where in the bloody hell have you been?"

"Oh…here and there" she explained with a cat-like grin. "You know me. Never in one place for too long. Your feet get too dry that way."

"How 'bout I pour you a real drink? On the house."

She smirked. "Well, I wouldn't say no to a shot of Antivan rum."

"Have you ever?" he laughed.

"You know me too well, Nevio."

The bartender brought out two small glasses and filled them both before sliding one across the bar to the pirate. "So how the hell have you been, ragazza?"

"Can't complain" she shrugged before downing her rum and slamming the glass down. "I ran into some trouble with the Qunari in Kirkwall a few years back, but other than that I'm right as rain."

"Si," he nodded "I heard something about that. I also heard that you took up with some Champion down that way. I never pictured you as the heroic type myself."

"Well, this particular Champion has a way of getting herself into all sorts of trouble." She waggled her eyebrows. "And you know how much I like trouble."

Nevio poured another round. "Oh, I know the truth of that."

After Isabela downed her second drink, she opened her cloak and leaned forward, allowing her bosom to rest on the bar to reveal her ample cleavage. "So tell me about this new guildmaster. Is he tougher than Salvatore?"

The bartender scratched the side of his head as he tried to keep his eyes above the pirate's neck.. "Well, I guess that all depends on who you ask. He keeps to himself quite a bit, and he's smart. A lot smarter than the last two guildmasters in my opinion. He's a lot pickier about the contracts he takes, I know that. He's made a lot more money for the guild than Salvatore ever did."

Isabela scowled. "So what you're saying is, he charges a lot more for contracts."

"Let's just say he's above working for a couple of silver and a good tumble or two."

That definitely wasn't the news Isabela wanted to hear. She started to wonder if the whole trip was just going to end up being a colossal waste of time. "Is he here?"

Nevio pointed over his shoulder. "In the back, upstairs…but I don't know if he'll see you."

"Is he at least female friendly?" she inquired.

The bartender shrugged. "As far as I know. I've never seen a male whore come in for him."

The pirate removed her cloak and placed it across the bar before putting a hand to her hip and smirking. "That's all I needed to know."

Nevio shook his head with a slight smile and opened the panel in the wall leading to the hidden rooms behind it. When Isabela stepped through, no one seemed to notice her so she headed straight for the staircase. A red-headed elf at the bottom of the stairs gave her a questioning glare, but did not stop her as she began to ascend the steps. She climbed two more sets of stairs and made her way to the end of the hall before knocking quietly on the door.

"Inserire" a voice answered from beyond.

The pirate captain slowly turned the handle and walked inside. The room was dark, lit only by a few small candles that stood in holders on the surface of a broad maple desk. Her eyes scanned the room until they spotted the form of a man standing at a large window that looked out upon the water below.

He was tall with broad shoulders and his blonde hair was tied back into a ponytail that hung halfway down his back. Isabela mused that if his front half looked half as good as the back she might be in for a treat. He turned his head to the side to address her with a thick Antivan accent.

"I don't recall asking for any whores to be sent up this evening."

"That's good, because _I_ am no whore. I offer my services for free, if I am so inclined."

The guildmaster crossed his arms and turned his eyes back to the water. His shoulders shook with a harrumph. "I find that nothing in this life is ever free, my dear."

Isabela sauntered over to the desk and threw her leg over one corner as she rested half her bottom on its top. "Maybe, but the price doesn't necessarily need be an unpleasant one."

"If you are the same Queen of the Eastern Seas that I remember, I'm afraid that it is nearly always unpleasant."

She scowled with confusion as she stood upright. "Wait…who are you?"

He finally turned to reveal his face and the pirate's jaw dropped. "Vittorio? But I was told that someone named Isidro was the new guildmaster."

"Sometimes people must change their names for their own safety…as you well know, Naishe."

The pirate swallowed. "I haven't been that girl in a very long time, Vittorio" she whispered.

"Just as I have not been that young man who fell for your charms all those years ago."

"I suppose I never thanked you for allowing Zevran access into Luis's estate."

"No, you did not" he replied. "I expected you to fulfill your promise to run away with me after that, but you just disappeared. When I saw you all those years later, you had changed."

She chuckled. "What was I supposed to do? You tried to kill me."

"And I ended up in your bed once again" he smirked.

"You have to admit, we had a good time."

He nodded. "That we did…until you left me waiting for you in Llomerynn."

She rubbed her forehead. "I know you aren't going to believe this, but that really wasn't my fault. My ship was lost off the Wounded Coast near Kirkwall after I was attacked by the Qunari." She sighed heavily. "I had to get that relic for Castillon or my life wouldn't have been worth dragon shit after I let those slaves go free…you're influence if I recall correctly by the way."

"I heard about what happened in Kirkwall. I also know that the Qunari retrieved the relic nearly five years ago."

"True" she admitted "but I met someone…a friend. She's done a lot for me and she needed my help. I couldn't just abandon her."

"Yes, I heard about that too. The Champion…a mage named Hawke. I've kept tabs on you through the years, Isabela. I know all about how you bribed Castillon for his ship and your rum-running through the Bay with your new Dalish lover." His sharp blue eyes narrowed. "I also know why you are here. You are seeking aid from the Crows to help the self-proclaimed King of Ferelden overthrow the magisters who have taken over his government."

Isabela folded her arms over her chest. "I guess you really have been keeping track of me."

The guildmaster stared at the floor for a long moment. "I suppose that it was too much for me to hope that I could be the one man who could tame you."

She frowned sadly. "You almost were" she confessed. "If it hadn't been for the Qunari…I had every intention of returning to you, Vittorio. I suppose that I…well never mind. It's in the past now."

"This new lover of yours? Is it quite serious?"

The pirate lifted her shoulder and let it fall again. "I care for Merrill a great deal, although I think she would be better off without me. She allows me to do whatever I want with whomever I want. It seems to work better that way."

Vittorio touched her cheek. "If I thought I could have gotten away with it, I would have killed Luis myself for the things he did to you. I think I loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you, Naishe."

Isabela's eyes began stinging from the tears that were threatening to fall. She quickly blinked them away as she tried to bury the feelings for the only man she ever thought she could love. If it weren't for Merrill, she might have actually thought of giving into those feelings, but she cared too much for the elf to ever do anything to hurt her.

She turned her back to him. "Things have changed, Vittorio. I've changed. I guess being around Hawke has rubbed off on me." She paused for a few moments. "What I need to know is…would you still be willing to help an old friend?"

He grabbed her shoulders and turned her around, taking her into his arms, before he kissed her soundly. "As long as you realize what you will be missing."

The pirate searched the guildmaster's blue eyes for a long while. "I already do" she whispered.


	63. Chapter 63

**A/N- I just wanted to give a big thank you for all of the follows and favorites and the feedback I have received. For the past week, I have been trying to make sure that I set aside at least a little time each day to work on this story, especially now since Hawke, Alistair and their companions are getting closer to their goal. My husband made mention that I use a lot of words from different languages and that I should probably do some sort of footnote at the end giving the meaning for these words. So beginning with this chapter, I will start doing exactly that (with the exception of common Dalish dialect that is used throughout the games several times, ie-lethallin, lethallan)**

It was well after midnight when Isabela returned to the ship, but she wasn't alone. Three men followed in her wake, all wearing robes similar to hers, all hiding their faces. Once on board the ship, she signaled for Alistair to follow her into the captain's quarters. The prince obliged warily, keeping a good distance between himself and the strangers in case they were leading him into a trap. It wasn't until he reached back to close the door that he realized Emily had fell in behind him. She shut the door quietly until she heard it click and then moved to the shadows near the small table in the corner. Being a former templar, the prince was able to feel the familiarity of her magic as she readied herself for trouble.

Isabela removed her hood and the men with her followed suit. She indicated to the tallest of the three. "Alistair, I would like for you to meet the guildmaster of the Crows, Isidro."

The blonde stranger flourished a small bow. "A pleasure, sire."

The prince gave a nod of acknowledgement. "I assume Isabela told you why I wanted to see you?"

"You are looking to buy the services of the Crows to aid in your upcoming battle. I have to warn you, however, it will not be cheap. Just how many of men are you wanting to hire?"

"I guess that depends on the cost" Alistair replied.

"One hundred sovereigns a man" the guildmaster replied flatly. "And I assure you, that is a bargain."

Alistair's shoulders slumped a bit before he realized it. He quickly straightened them prior to speaking again. "I can get fifty soldiers for less than half that price."

"Possibly," the man retorted with an arched brow "but one assassin is worth ten of your so-called soldiers. They need no training and they already have the arms and armor they need. They also have the benefit of stealth and can infiltrate enemy lines much easier than even the most seasoned man under your command."

Emily appeared from the shadows and threw three large sacks of gold on the desk next to Isidro. "There are twenty-five hundred gold sovereigns in those bags. You can take the time to count them if you like. We want thirty men for that price…and the freedom of one Zevran Arainai."

The guildmaster's eyes narrowed. "And you must be Hawke. I have heard much about you."

"Then you should know that I don't play around when it comes to money or battle" she said with a confident sneer. "That is our offer. Take it or leave it."

Isidro rubbed his chin between his thumb and his index finger for a few moments. "I would like for you to allow me to make a counteroffer, if you may be so inclined."

Emily crossed her arms. "Go ahead."

"Thirty men and Zevran's freedom for twenty-five hundred gold sovereign…and one night with your charming captain."

Isabela's brows furrowed as she stared at Isidro in disbelief. Emily watched her friend carefully for several minutes before speaking again. "I am no brothel mistress and neither do I offer my friends as bargaining chips. If Isabela wants to spend the night with you, that is entirely up to her, but I gave you our offer and it is final."

The pirate stepped forward. "Make it two thousand and you've got yourself a deal."

The guildmaster balked. "That is nearly half of my asking price. Do you take me for a fool?"

Isabela put her hands on her hips, pushed her breasts forward and smiled wantonly. "You know I'm worth it _Isidro_."

Alistair shook his head. "You really don't have to do this Isabela."

She nodded with a small smile. "Yes, I do. Don't ever let it be said that I didn't do my part for the war effort. Besides…it's what I'm best at."

"No it's not Izzy" Emily argued. "You're worth a lot more than some cheap brothel whore and you know it."

The pirate laid a hand on the mage's shoulder. "I know that sweetpea, but I want to do this…Honest."

Emily sighed. "Are you absolutely sure?"

Isabela nodded. "I am." She turned to her former lover. "So what do you say, Isidro? Do we have a deal or not?"

Isidro contemplated the pirate's offer for a few more minutes before grinning and taking Isabela's hand. He kissed it lightly. "Tomorrow evening, you shall join me for a quiet supper. I will send some of my men for you." He turned and bowed to the captain's companions. "Until we meet again, your Majesty…Signorina Hawke. I will draw up the contracts in the morning. When my men come to retrieve Isabela, they will exchange them for your detailed instructions and the gold."

He then kissed the pirate's hand one last time. "Until tomorrow, then, la mia bella dolce" he smirked before donning his hood and beckoning his men to follow him from the ship.

* * *

Isabela was beyond stunned when she left the ship's cabin, although she did her best not to show it. What was Vittorio playing at anyway? She thought she had made her feelings perfectly clear. Then again, he was never one to give up easily. Besides, she was helping Hawke and Alistair. With the rag-tag bunches they were digging up they could use some real professionals on their side.

As she walked toward the hatchway leading to the lower deck, she nearly ran right into Merrill. "Oh, hey Kitten" she said with her best painted on smile.

The Dalish girl's brow creased. "What's wrong, Isabela?"

"What makes you think something's wrong?"

Merrill sighed. "I may be a bit dense sometimes, Isabela but I can always tell when something's bothering you."

The pirate sighed. "Look, it's nothing, alright? Really. What are you doing out here so late anyway?"

Merrill scowled. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

"Okay, I'm all ears."

"I know this is a terrible time to be bringing this up…with everything else…but I need to know something…and I want you to be completely honest."

Isabela closed her eyes. She had a feeling she knew where the conversation was going and it was going to be unpleasant for both of them. "What is it that you want to know, Kitten?" she sighed.

Merrill began pacing nervously. "What am I to you Isabela? A friend? A companion? A lover? Would you consider us mates? And not the pirate kind either…but honest to goodness mates? If someone were to ask, what would you tell them I am to you?"

The pirate shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "The truth is…I don't really know the answer to that question, sweetie. I care about you…a lot. But if you're asking me if I can ever see a time that I'll settle down and be content with just the two of us…"

The elf stopped pacing and dropped her head. "The answer would be no."

Isabela waggled her head sadly. "I'm sorry Kitten."

Surprisingly, a smile crept across Merrill's lips. "I've wanted to tell you for weeks now, but I wasn't sure. I didn't want to hurt you because I care about you too…but…I've developed…feelings for someone else."

The pirate chuckled. "Anion?"

The elf nodded. "I am so sorry, Isabela."

The captain took the other woman in her arms. "Don't be, Kitten. I'm really happy for you." Isabela stepped back. "The truth of the matter is, you were never going to be content with what we had. I always knew that. Deep down I think you did too. I really tried, but I think I'm too set in my ways to ever settle down with one person." She felt a sudden pang at those words when the thought of Vittorio entered her mind. Maybe this was some sort of sign. She quickly shoved the idea away.

"Don't say that, Isabela" the Dalish girl softly scolded. "I just wasn't the right one. There might be someone out there just for you." Isabela gave a small laugh. "So you aren't angry with me?" asked Merrill timidly. "We are still friends?"

The pirate cupped the smaller woman's chin. "We will always be friends, Kitten…no matter what."

* * *

Fenris was grateful that Isabela was allowing Alistair and Hawke to use her cabin because it gave him and Nadia a chance to spend time alone together in the cargo hold. They had even brought their bedrolls in to put on the floor so they could stay together at night. While the Wilder woman had remained cold and aloof to everyone else, he found her icy exterior melting a little more every day that they spent together.

He and Alistair had spoken about the upcoming battle several times during their trip to Antiva and he was still unsure where he was expected to be when the time came. Nadia planned to rejoin her people and he was worried that it would mean that they would have to part company. Since their relationship had begun to blossom, he couldn't imagine spending even one day away from her. All he wanted to do was keep her safe and protect her, but he wouldn't dare tell her that. She was headstrong and stubborn, much like himself, but what they had worked for them. No one understood either of them like they understood each other.

The biggest problem he foresaw was what would become of them after the siege at Denerim ended. He was still an elf, after all. Would he even be accepted among her people? And if he wasn't, and she made the decision to leave with him, where would they go? He certainly wasn't going to take her off to live in some run down hovel in an alienage. He had no money and no prospects. How could he expect her to live her life like that?

Fenris felt Nadia's arm tighten around his chest. "What is wrong, mo ghra? You are being very quiet."

He sighed. "I was just thinking…about the future."

"Each day we live is burdensome enough" she said firmly. "Let us just focus on the here and now. The shamans say that the past is gone and the future will mind itself. The day you are living in is where your thoughts should dwell."

"I have heard similar things before," he told her "but it is still difficult not to think about."

She hoisted herself up on her knees and straddled him before her tongue began tracing the lyrium lines on his neck. "Then perhaps I can help you to keep your mind in the present, no?"

* * *

The next morning, Merrill couldn't stop herself from fidgeting. She hadn't slept well at all, but she wasn't tired. She was too nervous to be tired. She had made it through one hurdle, but she had no idea how she was going to get through the next. She and Anion hadn't really spoken much since the night they shared in Cumberland. She just didn't know what to say to him ever since she started experiencing feelings that went much deeper than mere friendship. What if he didn't feel the same way about her? What if he rejected her?

_By the Dread Wolf this is difficult, _she thought as she opened the door to the galley. She found Anion sitting at the table drinking a cup of tea and perusing over one of Anders' old journals. A plate holding two sweet rolls sat next to his arm. The cook was scrubbing pots from the morning meal nearby and glanced over his shoulder to see who entered, but Anion didn't even notice her walk in.

She pulled out one of the chairs that sat across the table and smiled nervously as she plopped down. "My, but those look good. Do you mind if I have one?"

The healer absentmindedly pushed the plate toward her, but kept his eyes on the page he was reading. "Sure, help yourself."

Merrill frowned then grabbed one of the pastries and took a small nibble. She watched Anion for a few minutes before trying a different approach. "Back to the journals I see."

He finally looked up, his sky-blue eyes staring right into hers. "Sort of. Hawke gave this one to me when we were in Kirkwall. It is a book of poems that my father wrote."

The Dalish girl's brow creased. "Oh? I didn't even know that Anders wrote poetry."

"Yes, and it is actually quite good."

Merrill shrugged. "I can't say that I'm surprised really. Anders always struck me as being that sort."

Anion arched a brow. "And what sort is that?"

"You know…the romantic type."

The young healer smirked. "Yes, I suppose he was. Would you like to hear one?"

"Of course" she answered a bit more quickly than she intended, but Anion didn't seem to notice.

He turned the pages in the book until he found the right one. His eyes scanned the page for a moment before they turned up to Merrill again.

_ Like a beacon in the blackest chasm, her green eyes lead me from the darkness  
Like the sun on a cold winter's morn, her kindness warms my heart_

Like the roots of the mighty oak, her strength keeps me grounded  
Like summer rain in an empty urn after a long drought, she fills my soul.

She is a wonder to behold, this dark angel of mine  
She is everything I wish to be and everything I wish to hold

She is magic  
She is beauty  
She is love

As he spoke the words, Merrill held her breath and did not release it again until several moments after he was finished. She swallowed. "That was beautiful, Anion."

He grinned and shook his head as he looked down and began flipping through the pages. "There are tons more like it. Can you imagine it, lethallan? Being so in love with someone that it just spills out from your quill and onto paper in that manner?" The elven woman sighed with discouragement and she felt as if she might cry. Anion's grin slowly disappeared when he noticed the change in Merrill's disposition. "But you must already feel something similar for Isabela" he added.

She shook her head. "No…my relationship with Isabela was different."

He frowned. "What do you mean _was_, lethallan? Did something happen?"

Merrill shrugged. "We decided that we were better friends than lovers."

Anion quickly stood from his chair and hurried around the table. He gathered her up into his arms and held her close. His scent was familiar, but not the one she was accustomed to. She backed away and grimaced with confusion.

"Anion? Are you wearing cologne?"

He looked down at the floor, his face a light shade of pink. "Yes," he admitted with embarrassment "I found a few silvers in my father's clinic so I bought it from a merchant in Ostwick when Hawke was speaking to the Teyrn. The man said that it would help me attract that special someone. I suppose it was a rather stupid thing to do."

Merrill's heart leapt with anticipation. "That special someone?"

The healer nodded, but refused to look her in the eye. He gulped. "I sometimes tire of being alone. I suppose it is just wishful thinking on my part."

The Dalish woman shook her head. "It's not wishful thinking. Is there anyone in particular you had in mind?"

Still staring at the floor, he sighed. "It does not matter. I do not think she would ever look upon me in that manner anyway. She is the kindest and most beautiful woman I have ever met. I have absolutely nothing of value to offer her, but my heart."

Merrill was beginning to feel queasy when she thought about the fact that he was probably referring to Isabela or Hawke or maybe even Nadia. "Who is it lethallin? I promise that I won't tell."

He slowly lifted his face, his brilliant blue eyes filled with uncertainty. "It is you Merrill. I…I know that I promised that I would not try to steal you away from Isabela and I tried to keep it to myself, but after the night we shared alone…I could not help it. I have come to care for you a great deal since we met, but that night…I could not keep myself from falling in love with you."

The elven woman's heart felt as if it might pound from her chest and she couldn't hold back the giggle that the joy in her soul brought forth. Anion must have taken it the wrong way because he backed away even further before she took his hand. "I was hoping you would say that, Anion" she grinned, her eyes glistening with happy tears "because I feel the same way."

"Really?" he breathed with relief.

She nodded excitedly. "Yes…really. Ma'arlath."

He kissed her tenderly before whispering, "Ma'arlath, emm'asha."

Merrill grinned from ear to ear right before she kissed him again. Then, she tucked a loose tendril of his hair behind his ear before biting her lower lip. "May I make a suggestion, though, emma vhenan'ara ?"

His forehead creased. "Yes, of course."

"I think that we should go to one of the shops in the city to buy some new cologne for you."

Anion frowned. "You don't like it?"

The elven woman shook her head. "No, it's very lovely. I'm just not sure Hawke will appreciate it much. I think it's the same scent Anders used to wear."

* * *

**_la mia bella dolce- my beautiful sweet_**  
**_mo ghra- my love_**  
**_ma'arlath- I love you_**  
**_emm'asha- my girl_**  
**_emma vhenan'ara- my heart's desire_**


	64. Chapter 64

_Maker's balls, but I hate horses_, Isabela thought as she rode behind Vittorio's men who were leading her outside of the city. _Where in the bloody hell are these idiots taking me anyway?_

When she met them at the ship, Isabela asked the three Crows that question, but they didn't answer her. In fact, they hadn't said one word to her at all. When one of them handed the horse's reins to her, she balked, refusing to mount the beast but they would not move until she did. When she finally relented to their wishes, they simply rode out in front of her, as silent as ever.

It was at least another half hour and well past dark before she saw the lights of a manor house come into view over a hill. She squinted as she tried to see the outside better through the blackness. The area she found herself in seemed very familiar, but she was so disoriented because of the twists and turns her escorts took that she couldn't be sure where she was.

As they neared the estate, it donned on the pirate why she thought she recognized the place. She had lived there many years ago, with her husband Luis. A feeling of panic rose up inside her gut and she seriously began to wonder if she might vomit. It was the one place in the world where she swore that she would never return.

"Why are you bringing me here?" she demanded of the men who accompanied her. They still did not speak, but continued riding toward the house. Isabela's hands began trembling when she thought of all of the things that took place inside that building. The parties with all sorts of men pawing at her while the man she married looked on with approving smiles and the beatings she would receive if she didn't go along with Luis's wishes. The dark chamber in the basement was a particularly unpleasant recollection and the time he kept her chained in it for four days was the final straw.

Luis had invited an important member of the Antivan court for a weekend of debauchery, with Isabela as the main attraction. That particular prince had an affinity for blood it seemed and he liked to cut his playmates during sex. After the prince accidently killed one of the whores that Luis had brought in for his pleasure, Isabela refused to be alone with the man. Her husband had been so embarrassed by her refusal that he beat her right there in front of everyone then dragged her to the cellar. After her hands were chained to the ceiling, Luis and the prince took turns whipping her until she bled and raped her between the beatings.

When they finally tired of their game, they left her there, deep gashes seeping blood onto the floor, bruised, humiliated and weeping. The young girl thought that her husband had left her to die and she prayed that she would.

It was Vittorio who found her like that. Back then, he was still a young Crow under Luis's command. Luis had gone on a trip to the Free Marches the day after the incident and had left her in that basement to rot. When Vittorio discovered what happened from one of the servants, he rescued her. He called for a healer to treat her wounds and bring her back to full physical health, but the deepest and most severe wounds could not be healed.

Vittorio promised to take her away from Antiva, but Isabela wanted a more permanent solution to her marital problem. While Vittorio had gone into the city for some supplies, Isabela sent one of her servants to fetch another member of the Crows that she had become friendly with since she and Luis wed. Zevran agreed to do the job in secret for a hundred sovereigns which Isabela had stolen from her husband's safe. When Vittorio returned, she told him of her plan and he agreed to help by letting Zevran into the estate after Luis came back from his trip.

Luis, of course, was surprised to find Isabela alive and out of the cellar when he arrived and whipped every one of his servants for helping her because none of them would admit to the deed. Even though he hadn't expected to see his wife alive, it didn't stop him from using her that evening. Every touch made her wince and she nearly vomited several times during the act, but she managed to hold it off. That night, as Luis slept, Isabela heard someone outside their window and carefully slipped out of bed into the hallway to let the assassin do his work. Once the deed was done, she quickly gathered all of her husband's coin from his safe and all of the things she thought she might need before taking off into the night.

She was supposed to meet Vittorio outside of the south gate, but instead went in the other direction. As much as she appreciated his help and as much as she cared for him, after everything she had experienced she swore that she would never allow a man to get that close to her again. She headed straight for Luis's ship and gave the crew nearly all of the coin she had stolen to get her out of Antiva.

The pirate stood at the doorway that led into the house and a cold shiver ran down her spine. She wondered why Vittorio would bring her there of all places. Perhaps it was his way of getting back at her for leaving him waiting. One of her escorts opened the door, letting the light inside spill out into the darkness. Isabela took a deep breath and then stepped inside the last place in the world she ever wanted to be.

What she saw inside took her by complete surprise. Although what she could see of the outside of the manor hadn't changed, the inside was nearly unrecognizable. Gone were all of the bright Orlesian decorations and furniture, replaced by darker and richer décor. The once white walls with golden trim and accents had been colored red with deep browns and black. The furnishings matched the walls, still ornate but less pretentious. The ceiling that once held a mural of Andraste and the Maker had been covered in a deep night-sky blue with small swirls of grey to represent clouds and dots of white to represent the stars. The once grand walnut banister and railings had been replaced by dark Rivaini ebony and the red and gold staircase carpet was now black with silver design.

A small cough from behind interrupted her viewing and she turned to see a stern looking elven woman with dark hair standing behind her. The servant sneered slightly at Isabela's appearance.

"Signorina, Master Isidro has requested that you dress for the evening" the elf informed her. "If you follow me I will take you to a room where you can change."

"I think that I'll just stay in my own clothes if it's all the same to you" the pirate retorted.

"I am afraid I must insist" the other woman argued. "Or you could simply leave…it is entirely up to you, though."

Isabela rolled her eyes. "Fine" she muttered. If it wasn't for the fact that Hawke and Alistair were depending on her, she would have just walked out the door, but the bargain had already been struck and she knew from experience that backing out of a contract with the Crows would be asking for more trouble than they could afford.

She was led into a small room off the entryway that she remembered was once the sitting room where Luis liked to make deals over Antivan brandy and cigars. Like the other part of the house, that room too had changed a great deal. At least those rutting little cherubs were gone, but she wasn't sure the gargoyles that replaced them were much better.

The elven servant pointed to a dress that was lying across the large ebony desk in the center of the room. "I will be waiting outside the door to take you upstairs" the elf informed her before shutting it to leave the pirate alone.

Isabela quickly undressed down to her smallclothes and picked up the silk garment before holding it out to have a better look. The fabric was pure white and delicately woven. She slipped it over her head and found that it fit like a glove. The hem reached her ankles, but a slit ran down either side from her upper thighs. The bodice hugged her curves in all the right places and the color looked perfect against her sun-bronzed skin. Her back was almost completely exposed, leaving Isabela feeling a bit self-conscious about all of the scars that Luis and the prince had put there all those years ago. She adjusted her bosom until she was convinced that she was showing the perfect amount of cleavage, removed the kerchief from her hair and circled to take a look in the full-length mirror on the wall.

She smiled at her reflection until she realized that her hair was an un-Makerly mess. Apparently Vittorio had planned for that as well because she spotted a delicate silver brush and a large silver comb on the table. She ran the brush through her thick black mane before twisting it and securing it all but two large ringlets that hung next to her cheeks. She then slipped on the white leather heels she found under the desk and opened the door to find the servant waiting on the other side.

Without a word the elf pivoted and began climbing the stairwell. Isabela followed, holding the hem of her dress up so she wouldn't trip or snag the heel of her shoe on it. She was led into a dark room at the end of the hall which was once a guest room. They walked past the large bed with satin pillows and coverlets to the balcony outside. On the veranda was a round table with a silver candelabra in the middle surrounded by exotic pink and violet lilies. Two chairs were pushed beneath the table and a small dinner cart on wheels holding two silver platters, a bottle of wine on ice and two delicate glasses stood next to it.

"The master will join you shortly, signorina" the elven woman said with a nod before closing the large doors behind her.

Isabela walked to the railing and stared out at the expanse of vineyards below. If she had been anywhere else in the world, she probably would have found the view peaceful and serene. As it was, the memories that it brought back were tying her stomach in knots and she was finding it hard to breathe. She heard the clicking of the door handles as they were being turned and she closed her eyes to take a deep breath. When she opened them again, she turned her face to the side enough to see Vittorio out of the corner of her eye.

He wore a black waistcoat with silver trim along the bottom of the sleeves and the high collar, black trousers and high black leather boots. His clothes along with his blonde hair which was pulled back into a ponytail made him look rather dashing, but not enough for Isabela to get past being back in her former prison.

"My dear Naishe," he smiled "you look absolutely breathtaking." He glided over to the table and pulled out a chair for her. "Our meal has already been prepared. Please, join me."

She gave a silent nod and complied with his request. Once he was seated, he snapped his fingers and a red-headed male elf came scurrying from the bedroom. Vittorio's blue eyes never moved from Isabela's as the servant placed their meals before them.

After the wine was poured and served, the elf bowed to the guildmaster. "Will there be anything else, my lord?" Still gazing at Isabela, Vittorio waved his hand in silent dismissal and the servant hurried back into the room and out into the hallway.

Isabela arched a brow. "My lord?"

Vittorio chuckled. "Si, when I bought this land after becoming guildmaster I was approached by a prince who gave me title and even more land in exchange for a contract to kill his brother. His father had bequeathed most of his holdings to his eldest son of course, and my client felt as if it should belong to him instead. Once he gained title of the larger holdings after his sibling's untimely and unfortunate demise, the land his father originally set aside to him was granted to me."

"I suppose that's one way to do it."

The guildmaster took a sip of his wine. "In Antiva, that is the only way." He leaned back in his chair. "But we are not here to discuss business. So tell me, mia dolce, how do you like what I have done with your former home?"

The pirate shook her head. "It was never my home. I just existed here." She frowned. "Of all of the places in the world you could live…why here Vittorio?"

He smiled wistfully. "Because of you, miei cara. I bought this estate and took everything that was inside and burned it. Then I redecorated it, filling it with only things that I knew Luis would have hated."

"But why?" Isabela asked with confusion.

Vittorio took her hand. "Because it is the place where I first met you. I know that it holds many bad memories for you and I wish that I could erase them all, but that day…it was the most important of my life. It is my hope to help you make better memories here."

The pirate shook her head. "Vittorio…I can't."

"Is it because of your new lover?"

"No…" she sighed "that is over."

He smiled. "Aah, then I still have a chance."

Her brown eyes stared pleadingly into his. "I'm just not built that way. What Luis did…it ruined me. You and I, we talked of having a family back then, but I was made barren after that night."

He nodded sadly. "I know, but it matters not to me Naishe. The most important thing for me is being with you. Look at everything I have gained, everything I have accomplished since we were last together. I would give it all to you gladly. I would give you the whole of Thedas or die in the effort. You need only ask."

"I don't want the world, Vittorio" she whispered. "I never did. All I ever wanted was to be free."

"Then I will give it all up, right this moment, to join you…to stay at your side. We can be free together. All of this means nothing without you, mia bella."

Isabela could feel the tears forming again so she turned her face to keep him from seeing. Knowing what she was and after everything she had done to him, he still wanted her. She had spent the better part of her life using men for pleasure and then throwing them away. She told herself time and time again that it was what she wanted. Her thoughts turned to Hawke and what she had with Alistair. She found herself feeling jealous of her friend on more than one occasion when she would catch them in a particularly romantic moment. No man had ever looked at Isabela with anything but lust in their eyes…no man but Vittorio.

She felt his fingertips touch her cheek as he turned her eyes back to his. "I love you Naishe. I have always loved you and I want nothing from you but your heart."

Isabela looked down at the plate of food sitting before her. "You don't want my heart, Vittorio. It is too broken and withered. You deserve so much more than what I can ever give you."

He stood and took both of her hands into his, pulling her up to stand in front of him. His hands moved to the side of her face and he gently pulled it up so he could look into her eyes once more. "You are a fearless woman in everything but this. Stop being so damned afraid, Naishe. For once in your life, allow someone to love you the way you deserve to be loved. Let that man be me. Take the chance."

She pulled away and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Vittorio…it's a chance I can't afford to take. It's for the best this way…for both of us."

"Will you at least stay for the night?"

The pirate shrugged. "That was our deal."

"I am not asking you to stay with me to fulfill an agreement. You are free to leave whenever you wish, mia dolce and I will consider the contracts paid. If you stay, I would rather it be because that is what _you_ want."

Isabela chewed at her lower lip. She was in conflict, a raging battle between her head and what was left of her heart. Even though he was the leader of the Crows, Vittorio was a good man. She knew that. She also knew that he deserved more than what she had become.

She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I'm sorry Vittorio…I can't stay."

The guildmaster straightened his shoulders and turned his back to her. "Very well, Isabela. If it is your wish to leave, I will not stop you. Tell your King Alistair that my men will arrive in Ferelden no later than the tenth of Harvestmere. My men will lead you back to the city."

The pirate hung her head and walked slowly from the room. She half-expected Vittorio to stop her, but he didn't say another word. She walked down the stairs and quickly changed back into her own clothes, leaving the satin dress and hair comb on the desk where she found them. The trip back into the city seemed to take longer than the one to get to the manor. Isabela only glanced back once before the lights of the estate disappeared over the hill and she considered returning, but instead proceeded to follow her escorts.

When she got back to the ship, she didn't say a word to anyone. She simply went down to the lower deck and found a dark, quiet corner in which to hide. With her knees to her chest and her head resting upon them, Isabela allowed herself to do something she hadn't since the night Luis left her to die in that dank, dark cellar. She cried.

* * *

_**mia dolce- my sweet**_  
_**mia bella-my beauty**_  
_**miei cara- my dear**_


End file.
